Devil on the Shoulder
by gaarafreak
Summary: A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and ErikChristine.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Devil on the Shoulder

**Summary:** A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and Erik/Christine.

**Disclaimer: **Phantom isn't under copyright any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, Nadir, and Meg aren't my original characters.

**Author's Note: **Wow, already two reviews and I'm realizing the need to fix a few things. In my defense, I wrote this in a day, had no beta, and just really wanted to get it out there. Plus, I've never stayed in a hotel of that caliber, so now I'm altering the story a little bit to fit the idea of a better room for Christine and her beau. Thanks much, helpful advice is always a life saver.

**Chapter One: Potential Energy**

The digital clock on the wall read "6:00 PM" as Christine carefully placed two long, white candles in the middle of her dinner table setting. She eyed her finished work for a moment before moving the small, crystal vase holding two red roses further away from the candlesticks.

"Smells like something's burning," Nadir mentioned, entering the kitchen. His eyes never left the folded newspaper in his hands even as he took his pen out from behind his ear and used it to point at the pot that was boiling over on the stove.

Squeaking in surprise, Christine shoved passed him to fumble the pot lid off the bubbling mess. She lost her grip on the lid and it clattered to the counter forgotten.

"Hey, Nadir, don't mess up the table!" Christine threw a glare at her bald, business suit clad bodyguard as she stirred the food. Ignoring her, Nadir sat down in a chair and quickly nudged the beautiful, china plate out of his way, bunching up the burgundy table cloth and knocking the elegant silverware askew.

Once the space in front of him was clear, he set his folded bit of newspaper down on the table and bit on the end of his pen as he examined its contents. Christine exhaled loudly as she turned off the stove and moved the pot over to a silver platter. She dumped the food she had just finished cooking into the serving bowl while Nadir asked, "Twelve letter word for an organelle that serves as a cell's power source! Go!"

Christine carried the covered serving tray to the table and placed it near the vase. "Are you serious?"

"Mitochondria. And yes, he is serious," a familiar, smooth voice interrupted. Erik strode into the kitchen, shrugging out of his black, wool trench coat as he approached them. Draping his coat over the back of his chair, he wrapped his arms around Christine's shoulders from behind and rested his cheek against hers. "I see you had a nice little table setting before Nadir messed everything up."

"I know. I made you dinner. It was a surprise," she muttered, glaring at Nadir. "But Nadir ruined it."

"Don't let me stop you." Nadir stood up and shoved the crossword in his jacket pocket. "I'll be in the guest house if you need anything."

As soon as Nadir left the room, Erik's hands moved from around her shoulders lower until he had both hands on her hips. She squirmed in his grip until they were facing each other, bodies conforming to each others curves. Angling her head back to look into his eyes, Christine smiled up at him. "You seem happy to see me."

He brushed his lips to her chin then to her forehead. His lips hovered over hers separated only by a fraction of an inch. "You have no idea."

Her breath was warm on his lips as she purred, "Show me."

Erik kissed her soundly on the mouth, reveling in her softness, until she finally made a weak moan of protest. He reluctantly let her go and sat in his chair. "Why'd you decide to make dinner?"

"Well, last week you made that wonderful dinner for my birthday," She slid into her seat across the small table from him, leaning over to fiddle with a lighter until the candles were lit. He watched her brief fight with the childproof Bic lighter, an amused smirk on his face. "What was it? Duck?"

"Roasted pheasant in a Whisky sauce, stuffed zucchini, and a simple salad with vinaigrette dressing. Anyone could have done it."

"Don't forget that dessert you lit on fire."

"I told you, banana flambé is supposed to be on fire." He sighed, rubbing at his left temple, the other hidden behind his mask. "In any event, you seemed to enjoy mine after you threw yours in the sink to dose the flame."

"Since you went through all that trouble to let me try all your favorite foods, I thought I'd do the same!" Christine removed the cover from the tray, presenting him with dinner.

Erik sat forward in his chair to examine the dish. His eyebrow hitched up on his forehead as he glanced from the food to Christine. "Is that?"

"Macaroni and cheese!" She grinned as she scooped out some food onto her plate. "One of my favorites, actually. I made this for myself a lot growing up. You know, when Dad was too busy to remember to bring home dinner."

Erik's eyes flicked to the counter near the stove and he saw the evidence. A box of Kraft Mac-n-Cheese. He returned her proud grin with a feeble smile of his own, taking the serving spoon she offered. She watched him take a few spoonfuls of the noodles. He speared a forkful of the food and quickly popped it into his mouth, chewing experimentally. After he swallowed, he ventured, "You put hotdogs in it?"

"It's good, huh!" Happily, she started eating some from her own plate. A few minutes into the meal, a loud rendition of "Sexy Back" filled the room, almost making Erik choke on a mouthful of food. Christine sent him an apologetic look as she answered her cell phone, turning away from the table. "Nadir, what are you doing? You're only in the guest house, why bother calling?"

"Sorry. I've just heard from the head of our Nevada branch again and we've got some bad news."

"Gary Clays called again?" Christine asked, standing from her chair and walking to the counter. "He's been contacting us a lot lately."

"Yeah, now we know why." Nadir replied. "Hit a bit of a snag with the casino Las Vegas."

"How big of a snag?" Christine demanded, her hand gripping the counter edge to brace herself.

"Someone pulled a heist on our casino. They made off with over $20 million of the company's money. Gary's pretty sure it was an inside job, but the perpetrator might be working with another of the local bosses too."

"Mafia bosses in Las Vegas?" Christine mused. A loud smash caught her by surprise and she whirled around to find Erik kneeling over his broken plate on the ground. He seemed to be fumbling with picking up the shattered pieces. Worried, she waved him away from the mess. "Nadir, just come back to the house. We'll discuss this in person."

Hanging up the cell phone, she crouched down beside him. He was still picking up the bits of china absentmindedly. She laid a hand on his forearm, forcing his attention away from the broken plate. He had a preoccupied, distant look in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

He stared at her as if he was looking straight passed her for a moment before stood up. "Did something happen in Las Vegas?"

"It looks like it," Christine sighed, retrieving a broom from the cleaning closet. When she reentered the kitchen, she found Erik examining a particularly large sliver of china glass, turning it over in his hands. A splotch of red smeared across the perfect white as he gripped it tightly with his fingers.

She slapped the shard out of his hand and rushed to turn on the sink. Stripping the glove from his injured hand, she forced him to hold his hand under the faucet. "Make sure you clean and bandage that cut. I'll handle the glass."

Nadir came into the kitchen just as Christine finished sweeping up the mess into the dustpan. He eyed her as she dumped it into the garbage. "Did you break something?"

"Don't worry about it," Erik said, wrapping his hand with a clean dishtowel before shutting off the faucet. He jerked his head toward the table. "Sit. Tell me what you know."

"Us," Christine corrected him instantly and he glanced at her in confusion. "You mean he has to tell us what he knows. This is about my company, you realize."

"Alright, alright!" Nadir dropped into the chair that used to belong to Christine, then noticed the plate of Macaroni and Cheese mostly untouched in front of him. Without asking, he happily scooped up a forkful and ate it. "Oo, hotdogs! Nice touch, Boss."

Christine rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. "So, how do we handle this situation in Vegas?"

"Well, you should probably visit in person to help in the interrogation process. Stealing from a major company like Daae Enterprises takes a lot of planning and connections. Someone's bound to slip up. We'll need a show of power, let the Vegas bosses know that we're not the gang to fuck with," Nadir scraped the last bite of food from the plate and shoved it into his mouth.

Erik spoke in a serious tone, gesturing with his uninjured hand. "I agree, it will take a show of strength to ensure the other bosses had nothing to do with the heist, but parading around our twenty year old-"

"Twenty ONE year old," Christine interrupted.

"Fine. Parading around our twenty one year old mafia lady would hardly strike fear into their hearts." Erik said then took a deep breath. He reached out to take Christine's hands from across the table, his hurt palm still wrapped in the washcloth. "Let me go by myself. My reputation as the Phantom will be more than enough to deal with this situation."

"He just wants to go play Poker." Nadir said, pushing the empty plate away from him. "Erik's a notorious gambling man. Everyone knows it."

"What?" Christine stared at Erik, who glared at Nadir angrily.

"Never mind that," Erik said. "I'll be there on business only. Anything else would be secondary to my mission."

Taking a moment to consider, Christine ran through his proposal. If what Nadir said was true, Erik might be distracted by all the opportunities to gamble in Vegas. However, she knew more certainly that he would never get sidetracked from an assignment she had given him. Finally, she let go of his hands and patted the table decisively. "I've never been to Las Vegas, and as I own a casino in that city, I think it's only right that I go and greet the neighbors. Did my father ever do that, Nadir?"

"Gustav knew each of the Vegas bosses, Christine." Nadir replied. "In fact, he was actually friends with one of them. The Mafioso over there are pretty laid back. How couldn't they be? They pretty much own the city. Haven't you ever heard that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?"

"Well, yeah, but I thought that was just a marketing slogan."

Nadir grinned as he said, "It's a guarantee, especially with mafia-related business."

"Fine, so you're going." Erik muttered, clearing the dishes from the table and depositing them in the sink. "But I'm going with you. I can still help lend some power to your cause."

"But who's going to watch over things here while I'm gone?" Christine asked, looking at Nadir.

"Don't look at me. I'm your bodyguard, wherever you go, I follow." He said as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair.

"There haven't been any major problems for over a month. Carlotta's playing nice and you have Firmin eating out of your hand. And you can stay on top of the company through conference calls and your laptop." Erik offered, unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. "If you're serious, we can leave as soon as tomorrow."

The next morning, Christine was rushing around the house trying to pack her suitcase from memory. As she hurried downstairs to retrieve a load of clean clothes from the dryer, the doorbell rang. She bellowed from the laundry room, "NADIR, GET THE DOOR!"

However, a few second later, the doorbell rang again. She grabbed the full laundry basket and stomped to the front door irritated. "Where the hell is he? Crappy bodyguard-"

One glance out the peephole showed a familiar looking woman with long, blonde hair tied up in a pony tail. Christine set the basket on the tiled floor and threw open the door. "Meg! What're you doing here?"

Meg stood just outside the doorway, arms wrapped around herself almost protectively, shoulders hunched as if from fatigue. Her eyes had tired rings around them and she stared at the ground preoccupied with her thoughts. Christine leaned forward and waved her hand back and forth in front of Meg's face. "Hello?"

"Hey, Christine," Meg smiled weakly. "I tried calling, but your cell phone went straight to voicemail, so I figured I'd just stop in. Can you talk?"

"Actually, I'm kinda busy." Christine picked up the laundry basket from the floor and propped one side against her hip. "I really have to finish packing."

"Packing? Why? You going somewhere?" Meg asked, uncrossing her arms and standing up straight, expecting the worst.

"Yes, Erik, Nadir and I are going to Las Vegas. Apparently there was a major theft at my casino on the strip." She said, then grinned secretively, "Plus, I've never been. So I figure, clear up this little problem and then maybe catch a showing of the Thunder From Down Under while Erik's back is turned."

"Wow, I'm not sure what to say," Meg frowned deeply as she stepped back. "You were just going to leave without telling me anything. A month ago, you went to kill Madeleine and then conveniently forgot to call me to tell me you were alive afterward. For a whole week, I thought you guys were dead! I went into mourning and everything. And do you remember what I said when I found out you were fine and had just neglected to inform me about it?"

Christine fought to maintain her composure despite her friend's quickly dwindling temper. Meg smiled sweetly as she entered and shut the door behind herself. "If I recall, I told you if you ever disappeared again without so much as a word of warning, I would find you and break both your pretty, little legs. Now, you weren't about to skip town and disregard our friendly arrangement, were you?"

The sound of the back, sliding glass door shutting broke Christine's concentration and she glanced over her shoulder as Erik strode in, followed slowly by Nadir. Erik glanced at Meg, shook his head as if to clear it, and then went upstairs. Nadir plopped down on the couch in the living room adjacent to the entryway. "Hey, girls! What're you talking about? Christine, don't you have to finish packing? Erik said you're trying to take your whole closet with you."

"I don't want to get stuck without the appropriate outfit, that's all," Christine replied, sitting down on the loveseat and placing the basket of clothes at her feet. Meg remained standing a few feet away, an upset look on her face. "Oh, come on, Meg. I would have called you from the plane."

Meg didn't reply, merely crossed her arms and stuck her nose up in the air, refusing to look at her. Christine glanced at Nadir with wide, pleading eyes and he immediately announced, "You know what would be fun? If you came with us."

Caught by surprise, Meg gave him a look of disbelief. "What good would that serve? You're going on business, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-" Christine started.

"Besides, you already have one kept man. What could you possibly need with a prostitute?" she asked then jolted forward when Erik brushed by her as she stood in the doorway.

He sat down next to Christine on the loveseat as he muttered, "I'm not a kept man. I'm her personal hitman."

"Well, you have certainly hit that-" Nadir started before Erik cut him off.

"Stop. It's that kind of talk that gets toes shot off." Erik stated and Nadir's mouth closed abruptly. "You like your toes, right?"

Christine gripped the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "Meg, I'd love for you to come as a friend. Keep me from going insane around these two."

Meg watched her for a few seconds before smiling. "What the hell. I was just thinking I needed to get away from this town for a while. Vegas it is."

"We're leaving this afternoon. Nadir called to have my private jet ready for departure at 5:30. We'll all drive together to the runway." Christine began folding her laundry. "Erik says Vegas is amazing at night and I want to see it for the first time at its best."

"Is that it? That's it, isn't it!" Christine demanded, pressing her hands flat against the thick plastic windows of the jet.

Thousands of feet below them, obscured by thin, gray clouds, was an endless sea of darkness. An abyss, indistinguishable between sky and land. A yawning pit of nothing… and then stars. Countless stars of electric light cut out from the black. A reverse sky, man-made and beautiful, a bit of heaven stolen and dropped into the desert.

"Las Vegas," Erik whispered into her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder, "a city created solely through the sweat and ingenuity of mankind. In the center of a desert, a biome hostile to human life, this large plot of land lured men with sweet promises."

He brushed her stray curls back, caressing her face softly as his quiet voice sent chills down her spine. " 'Shape me, hone me,' it said. 'Use me to do your wonders. You and I, we are potential and pure energy. We are limitless in possibility.'"

He dropped his hand and sat back in his seat, the sudden void where his warmth had been felt unnatural to Christine. She tore her gaze away from the rapidly approaching cityscape to glance at him. Erik was once again opening the paperback book he had been reading for the whole flight. He spoke without looking at her. "The result is the twisted miracle city you see below. It is sustained by the will and technology of humans, without which the desert would reclaim it. Domesticated land. Brilliant."

Christine turned her attention back out the window just in time to see their aircraft touch down on the tar runway. A flash of energy raced through her as the huge, neon colored casinos loomed into view beyond the airport buildings. It was like Erik said: there was possibility here and vast potential. It made her giddy from the overwhelming sense of it.

They disembarked from the jet and were met by a man in an electric go cart. The man in the suit inclined his head to her and she walked over. "Would you take our luggage to the Daae hotel, please? Leave it for pick-up under the name Christine Daae."

She slipped a few bills into the porter's hand and he nodded, handing her a key. "Thank you, Miss. Your limo is waiting at the front of the airport. I was told to give you these."

"My LIMO?" Christine gawked at his words, holding her hand out dumbly. The man handed her two keycards attached to necklaces and an old fashioned, regular key along with a slip of paper bearing their room assignments.

Erik slipped his arm around her waist, gently steering her away from the other man who was beginning to stare at her amazed expression a little too closely. "Now, now. Let's go, we don't want to keep the chauffeur waiting."

"I don't mind it," Nadir said, watching as the men worked quickly to unload their bags from the carrier space under the plane. "He gets paid for it, anyway. No need to hurry."

"I do. I want to lie down for a while before we hit the town," Meg grumbled, running a hand through her tousled hair.

The limousine was the definition of needless extravagance, all shiny black paint and flashy chrome detail, with room for over eight people. As she neared, Christine saw the driver lean resting against the side of the absurdly long car stand up straight and open the back door for her. "Miss Daae. Welcome to Las Vegas."

Christine almost ran toward the car in her enthusiasm to be the first one in. Erik quickly intercepted her before she could jump into it. "Now, wait a minute. Safety first. Nadir, check the limo."

Christine stood with her hands on her hips next to Meg, who impatiently tapped her foot on her ground while Erik stood in front of them. Nadir climbed into the limo cabin and efficiently examined it for any signs of tampering. After a minute, his bald head emerged out the door and he held up a large bottle, so cold beads of condensations formed on its surface. "We got champagne, Boss!"

That was the last straw. Christine sidestepped Erik to dive into the limo next to Nadir. The seat bounced slightly on impact and she grabbed the champagne from him before scurrying to the seat opposite from Nadir's. "This is way cool! I didn't think people actually got this kind of service."

Erik slid into place on her side of the limo, his voice calm as he pried the bottle from her hands and placed it back into the ice bucket on the wall of the car. "Well, you are the owner of the most profitable hotel and casino on the Strip. If you didn't get the perks, no one would."

Across the car, Nadir had put his headphones in and Meg kept herself occupied with constantly checking her cell phone for new messages.

Their chauffer weaved skillfully through the crowded streets of Las Vegas while Christine gazed in wonder as they passed giant structures mimicking architecture from around the world. A thrill went through her as she tried to absorb all the light and energy at once, all the images flooding her mind with strange beauty.

Warm skin found her hand as she gripped the leather seat next to her. Fingers intertwined with hers and she glanced over just in time to see Erik's glittering, dark eyes hooded with a look of desire and something else. An ancient, unyielding emotion. She had assumed she knew it, but seeing it so open on his face made her heart stutter with panic.

He had taken his glove off his unmarred hand in order to feel her skin on his. Raising their intertwined hands up to his lips, he kissed her knuckles with infinite tenderness. Her mind buzzed hotly when his tongue darted out to taste a hint of her flesh. The tickling sensation brought a blush to her face, an undeniable force dragged forward. She gravitated to him. Closer to his lips.

"We're here!" Nadir announced followed by the double slam of two car doors being shut. Christine jumped back in her seat, knocking her head against the window. Hissing in pain, she clutched her scalp as Erik nearer, fretting over her. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Where'd you impact-"

She waved her hand dismissively and accidentally sent his mask flying across the car as her fingers connected with his face. He covered his exposed, disfigured skin as if his life depended on it, hunching over to keep himself hidden. Christine hurried to find the fallen mask, hunting under the seats as far as her arm could reach. She handed it to him and then escaped from the car before she could do any more damage.

Meg grinned lopsided at her as Christine straightened and shut the car door. Looping an arm through hers, Meg led them inside. Two employees in uniform were waiting for her at the front door, one woman in a navy suit and a young man. The woman held her hand out to shake Christine's hand. "Hello, you must be Miss Daae. We've been expecting you. If you would follow me?"

Christine stood in place as the other began following the hotel manager away from the front entrance. When the woman realized she wasn't behind her, she stopped. "Miss Daae? Is anything the matter?"

Pointing toward the front door, she asked, "Um, isn't this the entrance?"

A meaningful smile crossed the woman's face as she and her assistant shared a look. "Not for you."

Shrugging, Christine fell into step between Erik and Meg, her hand fishing in her pocket for the keycards. Toward the side of the hotel, a simple door led into a hallway. The hall was lined with impressive paintings and murals, the red carpet extending until it reached the only other doors in the hall: an elevator. The woman motioned Christine closer and gestured to the panel on the wall beside the elevator doors. "Your V.I.P. keycards and penthouse key grants you access to this elevator."

Christine noticed a small keyhole in the metal panel and put her key in, turning it. The double doors slid open with a well-oiled snick. The interior of the elevator was huge, plenty of room for all six of them. The concierge stood in front of them in the elevator, facing the doors as she spoke. "Your friends will be on the level below you in V.I.P. rooms T5 and T6."

"What about us?"

"You're in the penthouse apartment at the very top." The woman replied as she watched the level number rise. "Don't loose that key, only it and the master key will get you onto the penthouse floor. All others must use the intercom in the elevator and you will need to ring them in."

The elevator stopped on the second to last floor and Meg hastily exited followed by Nadir. Christine handed them their keycards and the concierge held the doors open with a hand. "If you have any problems, please do not hesitate to call the front desk. Your luggage will be brought to your rooms immediately."

Meg was already halfway down the hall when the woman finished speaking and Nadir rolled his eyes at her haste to get to her room. He gave a little salute and started away himself. "Later, Boss. You know where to find me."

When they reached their floor and Christine walked slowly out of the elevator into a large, open room. It was set up more like a luxurious condo than her idea of a hotel room. The large room the elevator deposited them in was a sort of living room with a giant Plasma Screen TV on the wall and a plush couch with two recliners on either side facing it. One wall across from the elevator was completely made of glass, looking out onto the busy city below. The ceiling sprawled up high above their heads and the carpet below their feet was a dark brown color and extremely soft.

Three rooms split off from the central living area, a bedroom that was just as big as the living room, a sinfully large bathroom with a Jacuzzi and a giant bathtub, and what appeared to be a kitchen area divided into dining section and cooking section. Christine wandered forward and opened the large refrigerator next to the stove to find it fully stocked with numerous foods.

The concierge's lilting voice snapped her from her daze. "Miss Daae, is everything in order?"

Christine reentered the living room area with a huge smile on her face. "Yes, it's perfect! Thank you."

The woman inclined her head. "I apologize for the delay with the luggage. It should be here within half an hour. I will bring it up myself along with a complimentary bottle of wine. Would you prefer white or red?"

"White." Christine stated happily just as Erik said, "Red."

The woman didn't seem phased at all and merely smiled. "Two bottles then, on ice, and frosted glasses."

Erik leaned against the wall as the woman walked back into the elevator and disappeared behind the sliding double doors. "Your hotel is certainly posh enough, Christine."

"Yeah it is! It's amazing! Who wouldn't want to stay here?" Christine kicked off her shoes and walked around with the room barefoot to appreciate the texture of the carpet. "I'm gonna check out the bedroom."

She rushed into the large bedroom, spotted the king-sized bed against the wall and immediately dove onto it. The bed swayed with her landing and she exclaimed joyfully, "It's a water bed!"

"After all that you've seen, did you expect any less?" He sat down on the edge as he removed his shoes, sending ripples of movement through the bed. Christine laughed as the water mattress rolled beneath her. When his shoes were off, he laid flat on his stomach propping his elbows on either side of her so he could gaze down at her. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."

She hooked her arms around his shoulders, stretching under him. "I am. This city is… it's the most incredible place I've ever seen."

"I'm glad you like it." He leaned his head to the side as she reached up to remove his mask, granting her access to his weakness as she revealed his full face. Here, alone with her, he needed no false strength. "If you want, we can go down to the casino after the luggage arrives."

Her lips curled in a devious smile as she peered up at him through long eyelashes. "But what will we do until it gets here?"

His hand brushed passed the bottom of her shirt, tracing circles on her skin with his long fingers, leaving a trail of goosebumps where he touched. His heated gaze dropped to her lips as he said in a silky voice, "Let's continue from where we left off, shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Devil on the Shoulder

**Summary:** A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and Erik/Christine.

**Disclaimer: **Phantom isn't under copyright any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, Nadir, and Meg aren't my original characters.

**Author's Note:** Another chapter for you. And yes, you may have noticed that Christine still has a long way to go before she's a quintessential mafia don. She doesn't have the self-control or evil patience to exude that kind of image.

**Chapter Two:** **all or nothing**

Christine rolled over, her body making waves in the water bed and slowly rocking her awake. Eyes closed, she groped across the other side of the bed expecting to find a warm and willing body to cuddle before she had to face the day. When her hand gripped only wrinkled, folded back sheets, she opened one eye and groaned. Erik wasn't there.

She sat up, stretching to grab her cell phone off the nightstand as she yawned. Nadir's number was on speed dial and he answered on the second ring. His voice was hoarse from sleep. "Morning, Boss lady."

"Nadir, did Erik leave to meet Gary Clays without me?" Christine demanded. "Did he start the investigation on his own?"

"What?" Nadir's voice rose in confusion. "No, no. Isn't he with you?"

"If he was with me, I wouldn't be talking to you right now."

"Right." He sighed and she could practically hear him rub his eyes in his exasperation. "Last time I saw him was about five hours ago when I went downstairs to the casino. He was fucking things up at the Poker table."

"Okay, I plan to speak with Mr. Clays and the head of security, not to mention eye witnesses. So meet me in my room in an hour, I'll ring you up."

As soon as she had hung up the phone, she called Erik's cell phone only to get his voicemail instantly. Irritated, she left him a message to call her back and then went to take a bath.

Christine was out of the bath and buttoning up her dress shirt when she heard the elevator ding open and Erik walked out. She pulled on her suit skirt, tucking her shirt into the waist as she announced, "Nadir and I are going to meet with Mr. Clays and get the security tape from the heist. Gimme a hand with my tie, would you?"

Erik entered the bedroom and took the long, black and purple tie from her hand, looping it over her head to her neck. He worked silently, weaving the tie into a slipknot that hung under the shirt collar. Christine waited for him to speak, but when he didn't she said, "I was worried you'd done something rash when I woke up alone. Nadir said you were downstairs playing Poker."

"Yes." He busied his hands with strapping her underarm holster in place around her before holding out her suit blazer.

"For five hours?" She asked, slipping her arms through the jacket sleeves and shrugging it into place on her shoulders. Flipping her hair free of the jacket, she peered up at him. "That's nearly all night. Are you going to be awake enough to help, or would you rather stay here and rest?"

He shook his head and walked to the bathroom. Before he shut the door, he said, "Just give me a few minutes to clean up. You know I don't normally sleep all night."

Erik disappeared inside, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later, the sound of rushing water emanated from the bathroom and she returned her attention to picking out a pair of shoes from the closet. The choices were limited to mostly black variations of high-heeled shoes, so she grabbed a pair and slipped them on. The intercom on the wall near the elevator rang out and the monitor showed Nadir standing inside the elevator.

Christine hurried over, pressed the penthouse access button and the elevator doors swung open. Nadir stepped into the living room area and looked around, whistling. "Wow, this is a nice set-up. I can't speak for Meg, but it's gotta be five, maybe ten times better than my room."

"Just one of the many amenities my position provides, I guess."

"Well, I called Gary, he's already in his office waiting for us, so-"

Christine grabbed Nadir by the shoulder and he stopped, already with his hand on the elevator access panel. "Erik's coming with us. Give him a few minutes to get ready, he had a long night."

"Oh yeah? Did he take your casino to the cleaners?" Nadir grinned, walked around to rest on the large couch in front of the Plasma screen TV. "That guy's made for this city, let me tell you. He's a high profile gambler, any casino would draw blood to have him play at their tables."

Frowning, Christine perched on the armrest of the couch next to him. "If he's so great at it, why does he have to work as a hitman?"

"I don't." Erik entered the room in a new suit, all black with a black tie and black button-up, fiddling with his cuff links. "Remember? I was retired until you came along. Besides, I'm not exactly… welcome… in this city for long."

"Why not?" Christine asked, confused. He glanced up from fixing his sleeves to stare at her.

"Apparently, I'm an obnoxious winner." He said, checking his mask to make sure it was completely secure. "Casinos find my good luck annoying. Among other things."

"Well!" Nadir slapped both his hands against his knees as he pushed out of his seat. "Let's not keep Sir Clays waiting."

The middle-aged man waiting for them down in the lobby was Gary Clays, head of the Nevada branch of Daae Enterprises. He recognized Christine and immediately hurried over. "Miss Daae, the files you requested are waiting in my office as is the assistant head of security. If you would follow me-"

As they walked, Christine held her chin up and tried her best to look imposing while she ran through her pre-considered questions. "Mr. Clays, when did the incident occur?"

"Two weeks ago. We hoped to settle this unfortunate situation ourselves, but when our head of security- the main eyewitness, went missing we ran out of options." Once they reached the casino half of the building, they went through a pair of doors with an 'employees only' sign and into a long hallway. He led them into one of the doors into a large room with screens lining the walls.

"You should have notified us as soon as it happened," Christine stated in an even voice. Clays ran a hand through his white gray hair and strode to his desk across the room from the door. Behind his desk stood a large set of file cabinets, each drawer with its own lock embedded into the metal.

The ring of keys hooked through a belt loop at Clays' waist jingled with each step he took. He removed it, flicking through each key for the right one to open the top drawer. After a few tries the drawer slid open and he removed a hefty manila envelope that had been sealed with packing table, holding it out to Christine. She eyed the envelope blankly then gestured for Nadir to take it. Nadir opened it and examined the contents.

"That's the security tape from the night the money went missing. There was a scuffle at the slot machines, but it was nothing serious." Clays picked up a remote and clicked a button, aiming it at the wall of monitors. The individual monitors all showed a portion of a whole scene: a young man hunched over a slot machine. Before their eyes, the man on the monitors stuck his hand up the slot, placing a tiny instrument inside it. Erik covered his mouth with two fingers, turning away slightly to hide his amusement.

Christine raised an eyebrow at him, her voice dead serious despite her instinctive urge to smile with him. "What do you find funny?"

"It's a monkey's paw." He stated, stepping forward as Clays paused the image so he could point toward the man on the screen. "A small, electronic device inserted into the slot machine that scrambles the machine and makes an automatic jack-pot. Anyone can trick a computer. This is the epitome of a petty thief: he doesn't even have the skill to cheat at a real game."

"Right. You had him arrested, correct?" Christine asked, crossing her arms as she stared at the monitors on the wall.

"Actually, we confiscated his tool and had him escorted out of the casino after the head of security interrogated him. Since we'd never had a problem with him before, we assumed he was a tourist and banned him from the casino." Clays replied, his voice unwavering as he spoke. Christine glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, looking for a sign of weakness or remorse. He was completely confident in his decision.

"That's fine, but now that you mention it, where is the head of security? You said something about the assistant head behind here today for questioning. He wasn't on duty that night." Christine crossed the room to sit in the chair behind the desk, running her hands along the armrests.

"No, but he'll be able to answer any questions you have about our security systems. He's probably out on the floor making his rounds. Would you like me to have him come in?"

"Please." Christine inclined her head to him and he strode out of the room. As soon as the door shut, she turned in the swivel chair to face Nadir, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. "This chair is the best desk chair I've ever sat in!"

"Really?" Nadir shoved the overstuffed envelope under his arm and walked over eagerly. Erik rolled his eyes as Nadir examined the buttons on the armrest. "It's got a built-in massager! Nice. You should get one of these for your office."

Craning her neck to stare at the chair's back critically. "No, it would never work. I need a swivel chair with a backrest that says 'I'm a mafia lord, don't mess with me.' This one is too wimpy."

The door opened and a man in glasses stuck his head and shoulders inside. "Miss Daae? Gary said you want to speak with me?"

"Yes, come in." Christine said, but the man hesitated, eying Erik and Nadir warily. "Don't mind my associates. They're completely harmless unless provoked. Have a seat."

The man obeyed, sitting in the chair across the desk from Christine. She leaned forward, intertwining her hands together on the desktop. "You're the Assistant Head of Security for the Daae hotel and casino?"

"My name is Steven Wright, and yes, that's my job." He said, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. Off to the side, Nadir crossed his arms, flexing his muscles at just the right moment to make the man fidget in his seat. "I wasn't here that night, so I only know the details second hand. My boss, Mr. Decker, was on duty."

"Ah, I see. And do you know how I might contact Mr. Decker?" Christine reached for a nearby pen and clicked the top.

"He's out of town, on vacation. He'd been planning to take his two week vacation for a month before the heist happened, wouldn't shut up about it. He's on a Jamaican cruise with his wife. His first day off was the day after the money went missing from the vault. We can't contact him; his cell goes straight to voicemail."

"Well, when is he due back into work if he left two weeks ago?" Christine asked, clicking the pen top again.

"Probably a few days." Mr. Wright said, rubbing his hands on his pants as if to wipe the sweat from his palms. "Couldn't see how he'd take longer than that. We only get two weeks paid vacation every year."

Christine motioned Nadir over with her index finger and he leaned close, offering her his ear. She whispered, "Do you suppose this Mr. Decker might have helped pull off the heist?"

"No one else around here seems to suspect him," Nadir murmured back. "He's worked here for nearly twenty years without problem. I say give him a few more days. He might just be having a good vacation. If he plays truant, we know who to go after."

She waved the back of her hand and Nadir returned to his standing position, arms crossed and eyes fixed on Mr. Wright in the chair. "Well, thank you for your cooperation. If I think of anything else, I'll contact you."

He stood up from the chair and left the room as fast as possible, and Christine got to her feet. "I'm hungry, time for lunch. You've been here before, Erik. Know any good places to eat?"

"Hm?" Erik tore his attention away from the image on the screens to look at her. "I'm not very hungry. Nadir, I'll take the evidence to review while you and Christine get something to eat. Maybe you should call Meg. I'm sure she'd love to join you."

Nadir shrugged and passed the envelope to him. Erik stowed the manila envelope inside his coat and left the room without another word. Staring at the closed door in open mouthed shock, Christine pointed to Nadir and then back to the door. "Did he-? Did he just ditch us?"

Nadir patted her on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad. The man loves his card games."

"That son of a bitch just foisted me off on Meg and ran away to gamble!" Christine exclaimed shrilly. Nadir stuck a finger in his ear and jiggled it, trying to rid himself of her echo in his brain. Taking a deep breath, she rationalized, "It's okay. He's probably just excited, I mean, he hasn't been here in a while. Give him some time, he'll get tired of it."

"Sure. Like an alcoholic gets tired of booze," Nadir snarked as they left the back office. "Trust me, the only way an alcoholic stops drinking is after they've had so much they pass out and choke in a puddle of their own vomit. Only Erik can't do that, because he never loses at gambling, so he can't hit rock bottom."

"Yeah, the best he can do is pass out in a pile of his money like Scrooge McDuck."

"Actually, that's a common misconception. Scrooge McDuck didn't sleep on his money, he swam in it." Nadir corrected as they reached the hotel lobby. Christine rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone to call Meg.

A while later all three were on the road in their rented black 2008 Mercedes-Benz, Nadir situated behind the wheel. Christine eventually caught sight of a giant guitar and made him stop at the Las Vegas Hard Rock Café for lunch.

It was nice to have to wait to be seated for once as no one in the restaurant knew who she was. Meg looked around the waiting area, annoyed. "Why did you choose this place? We could have gone somewhere ritzy and gotten served immediately. Plus the food here is kinda low-class."

"Yeah, I know," Christine replied with a grin. "I just want a burger. Is it too much to ask to have lunch like a normal girl at a cheap, almost-fast food joint? No? Yes?"

Wrinkling her nose, Meg wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to shrink into the wall behind her. "The smell of the grease is making me sick."

"Oh, come on. We'll ask them to sit us far away from the kitchen, okay? Don't ruin this for me, Meg, I was looking forward to just hanging out with you." Christine sent her a pleading look that made Meg grimace and shake her head.

"Fine, whatever." She grumbled just as their waitress came to take them to their booth.

After they were sitting at a semi-circular booth, the red plastic bench seat sticking to their skin wherever it touched, the waitress took their drink orders and left. While Christine was flipping through the laminated menu, a clean-cut man in a business suit entered the restaurant and scanned the area from behind expensive sunglasses. Even though the glasses hid his eyes from view, Christine knew he was staring straight at her from the way his body tensed when his head turned their direction.

Nadir, seated at the end of their bench, was on his feet before the other man had gotten halfway across the restaurant. The other man held both his hands up at chest level to show he was without weapons, despite the fact that most holsters were easily concealed under clothing. Nadir held his arm out and the man stopped a few feet away from him, not venturing any closer.

"I was sent by Jack Crowley. He welcomes you to Las Vegas, Miss Daae, and wants you to know that he attributes your failure to visit him immediately upon arrival to travel fatigue. Furthermore, to remedy this lapse in courtesy, he insists you drop by his casino tonight to exchange introductions in person." Slowly, the man reached toward his inside blazer pocket and removed a business card before holding it out to Nadir. "The directions and address. He expects you at 6 PM and hopes you enjoy your stay in his city."

Nodding at Christine around Nadir's broad shoulders, the messenger turned and exited the restaurant. Christine held the business card gingerly between her index finger and thumb, examining both front and back. She crooked an eyebrow as she tapped the corner of the card against her chin in thought. "HIS city, is it? What do you know about our wonderful Mr. Jack Crowley, Nadir?"

Nadir scooted back onto the bench seat, rapping a tune on the table with his knuckles idly. "He's the big boss here, like you are in Chicago. Other than that, he's the guy your father liked to hang with. They played Poker together every time he came to Vegas. He's nice enough, you know… for a mafia boss."

"Nicer than me?" She demanded quietly. Nadir chuckled under his breath and Meg rolled her eyes.

"No mafia boss is as nice as you are. You should work on that," Meg commented, swirling her straw in her glass of water, propping her chin on one hand.

Christine pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced between it and the business card. "Should I inform Mr. McDuck he won't be adding to his moneybags tonight?"

"Yeah, if he finds out you visited a rival mafia lord's base without him there to hold your hand, he might have a stroke." Nadir said, then took a gulp from his soda.

"Or a heart attack." Meg added, running her finger along the rim of her glass.

The second largest casino on the strip, after the Daae hotel and casino, was built to mimic the Taj Mahal, directly across the street from the Luxor sphinx and pyramid. The golden topped roofs glinted in the setting sun and Christine had to squint to look at them. She stepped out of the rental car and Erik was at her side without a word. Ever since she had called him to inform him about their invitation to see Jack Crowley, he had withdrawn upon himself.

If possible, he had become even more stoic and silent. Christine noticed the others walked behind her in a defensive formation, ready to shove her out of harm's way if the need arose. Erik had said it was in bad faith for a mafia boss to carry a gun to a peaceful meeting. He had also mentioned that it wasn't going to stop him from bringing two of his own.

Christine was unarmed and entering possible enemy territory without the comforting weight of her underarm holster was daunting. When they reached the doors, the same man from the restaurant was there to greet them. He motioned for them to follow, leading them through the lobby and toward an elevator in the back. "Mr. Crowley has been looking forward to meeting you. He was a good friend of your late father, and was upset to hear of his untimely death."

They waited in the elevator as it ascended through the many floors toward the very top of the hotel. Christine dropped her eyes to the floor, memories of her deceased father washing over her. A deep sadness trickled through her chest and she balled her hands into fists as she tried to push back the grief. Even if he had lied to her about his life, he was her father and she loved him completely.

She felt a warm hand brush her arm and Christine started in surprise, Meg sending an encouraging smile from behind her. Forcing her emotions from her mind, Christine held her head up and fixed her expression in a look of professional detachment. "Most people working in our field meet with untimely ends. My father was no exception."

The elevator opened onto an apartment style area similar to Christine's penthouse. An older man sat in a recliner waiting for them in the living room area, standing at his side was a younger man, a few years older than Christine. She stepped forward without fear or hesitation, hand relaxed.

Jack Crowley was the man on the recliner, his dark brown hair streaked liberally with gray at the temples and sides. He looked to be a man who appreciated the finer things in life, he was a good fifty pounds overweight, but it was distributed evenly throughout his body structure giving him a balanced appearance. His goatee and mustache were well groomed and speckled with gray.

And for all these unique qualities, there was something familiar about his eyes.

Mr. Crowley threw his hands in the air, an enthusiastic smile on his face as he propelled himself from his chair. Crossing the room in long strides, he wrapped Christine in a friendly hug before she could do more than widen her eyes. "Miss Christine Daae! Let me take a look at you!"

He held her at arm's length and she couldn't help but be reminded of a doting uncle. "Such a beauty. Your mother, rest her soul, she was a beauty too. Your father was a lucky bastard, blessed with two angels of his own. Always said he was, didn't I?"

Christine craned her neck to look at who he was talking to only to find the young man standing next to the recliner had walked over and was grinning at her apologetically. "Yes, yes, I know. Dad, remember who you've got in a bear hug."

"Oh!" Mr. Crowley dropped his arms as if realizing something, letting her free. She took a step back, mind reeling from the surprising display of emotion. He motioned to the young man, shoving him forward to stand directly in front of her. "My son, Jack Crowley Jr."

"Call me J. J. Or Jacks." He took her hand and shook it firmly, his light brown eyes warm even under the artificial light. His hair was honeyed brown, an enticing mix of blond and light brown that only added to his friendly image. Everything about him exuded warmth and light. He was summertime and holding hands and staring up at the night sky on a clear night. "My father has told me a lot about you."

Christine blushed and released his hand after she shook it, stepping back even further only to bump into someone. She found Erik staring straight at Mr. Crowley and J. J. with intense focus. Shaking her head to clear the confusion, she addressed the two men in front of her. "Thank you for inviting me to your hotel. It's lovely."

"Is this your first time visiting Vegas?" J. J. asked, walking over to the couch to sit down. She joined him, his father already moving back toward his recliner.

"Yes, it's a great city. Well, from what I've seen so far." She added with a laugh. "I've only just arrived and spent most of that time in my hotel room."

"That's not right!" J. J. said as he drummed his fingers the armrest. "I've lived here all my life, so I know all the best places. It's a tourist town, of course, so anything's for purchase if you have the right amount of money. I'm sure that's not a problem for THE Miss Daae."

Mr. Crowley watched the interaction between them carefully, rubbing his goatee. After a moment, he pointed to them and announced, "You must show her around!"

"What?" They both asked in unison.

"I won't take no for an answer! Give her a tour of our city. I'm sure it would be a welcome change from sitting in your hotel room, right Miss Daae?" He leaned forward in his chair with a wink. Christine blushed, but before she could refuse, Erik spoke up from behind her.

"Miss Daae would be honored to accept your offer. She will call your office with the time most appropriate to her schedule." His voice, dark and commanding as ever, was layered with emotionless civility. The cold emptiness of his words nearly made her shiver in her seat wondering if he would explode with anger once they were gone.

A hint of that detachment was reflected back in Mr. Crowley's voice as he regarded Erik. "Who is this? And does he often make it a habit to speak for you?"

Christine cursed in her mind as she formulated the best reply she could. "Pardon him, he's my personal hitman. You know how the good ones can be: overconfident and mouthy. They think that they're irreplaceable and that gives them free reign to say whatever pops into their minds." She paused to glance at Erik and his face was blank. "But in this instance, he's right. I'll notify your secretary with the necessary information for our tour."

The meeting ended a little while later and they took the elevator back down from the penthouse. Outside of the hotel, Nadir waited for the valet to retrieve their rental car while Meg, Christine and Erik stood near the front entrance. Meg grinned at Christine conspiratorially as she leaned close. "That guy was cute for a mafia boss's kid. Convenient his dad thought of hooking you two up, huh?"

Biting her lip, Christine glanced at Erik out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed to be staring longingly across the street at something. She followed his line of sight to the entrance of the Luxor casino. Anger washed through her, but she clamped down on the surge of emotion. He wasn't going to take off right now and leave her here. She still wanted to ask him about his behavior during the meeting.

The car was brought around to the curb and Nadir took the valet's place in the driver's seat. As Meg jumped into the passenger seat, Erik opened the door to the back seat and held it as Christine started to get in. Once she was sitting in her seat, he started to close the door. Before he could close it all the way, she stuck her leg back out and he hastily stopped to avoid hurting her. "What are you doing?"

She glared up at him, irritated. "Me? What are you doing? Get in the car."

"I'm not going back to the hotel yet." He stated calmly, unresponsive to her volatile temper. "I want to check out the Luxor, maybe play a few hands."

"Oh, if that's all. Nadir, Erik and I are going out on the town," Christine shoved open the door and stepped out, straightening her skirt before she slammed the door shut behind her. She looped her arm through his and gestured with her free hand toward the casino across the street. "Then I'll come with you. I haven't done anything with you today that wasn't work related. Do you know how I felt when I woke up alone in the hotel room, no idea where you were or if you'd pulled something like the Madeleine incident-"

"Christine, it's okay," he wrapped his arms around her as she burrowed under his overcoat. He rested his chin on the top of her head for a moment as he counted her slowing breaths. Finally, she stepped back, shoving her hair behind her ears, and Erik nodded to Nadir, who was still waiting in the car. "Go ahead. I've got her."

As they walked across the street toward the casino, Christine noticed how overdressed they were. Most of the other tourists were wearing t-shirts and jeans, but she was in a skirt suit that cost over $1000 easy, Erik's outfit probably even more expensive than that all together. Before she could think about it any further, Erik reached out to take her hand in his. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Christine snickered at his words. "Wow, you're stingy for a rich guy." She traced her finger along the seam of his leather glove for a moment. "Why were you staring at Crowley and his son during the meeting? Is there something I need to know?"

When he didn't reply, she wondered if he'd heard her, but the pained look on the left side of his face told her he had. Not knowing what to do, she sighed and kept walking, her hand squeezing his. They were almost to the casino before he muttered in a begrudging voice, "He's my father."

"What? No way!" Christine gasped, mouth dropping open. "For sure? How do you know?"

He sent her a flat expression. "I'm sure Madeleine mentioned to you that my father was a mob boss."

"Well, yeah, but from Vegas?" She scoffed, "So you were born here?"

"Yes." He held the entrance for her and she walked into a bustling casino area. "But when he saw my deformity he accused her of being unfaithful. He wouldn't accept me as his son and he chased Madeleine out of the city for her supposed betrayal."

"So, if Crowley is your father, then you're the real second in line for power here?"

"No. I'm not his son. That vapid pretty boy is." He spat, scanning the casino floor until he saw the Poker tables. "I want nothing to do with power in this city. And I've tried my hardest to fly under his radar. For all I know, he assumed one of the hits he put out on me and Madeleine succeeded. Now that he's seen me, he'll realize that wasn't the case."

"But he knows you're under my protection. Shouldn't that keep you safe?" Christine asked, brushing a stray hair from his overcoat sleeve gingerly. His eyes softened at her unintentional preening. She worried for him so much.

"Who knows? For now I should be fine." He led her to a busy Poker table and took the only empty seat at the end of the row. She stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder to watch as the dealer exchanged Erik's money for the appropriate number of chips. After the first couple of hands, Christine had proven very interested in the game.

In the middle of the third hand, she peered at his cards and asked, "So, what you're telling me… THIS is a straight flush?"

The other players groaned and Erik rubbed at his eyes, throwing his cards back onto the table. "Christine, please. Here, see those slot machines over there? Go lose some money at those for a while. We'll leave in an hour."

"You promise?" She asked, batting her eyes as she faked innocence.

He nodded vigorously. "Yes, I promise. I swear. I'll do anything, just please-"

Her pouting expression quickly broke into a huge smile as she sang, "I'm holding you to that! You said anything!" She leaned close to whisper in his ear, "I'll be playing solitaire on your naked chest once we get back to the hotel room. See you in an hour!"

She left the Poker table and chose a slot machine within his line of sight, just to be safe. When Erik sighed and turned his attention back to the game, he found the players staring at him annoyed. "Right. Well, what are we waiting for? I only have an hour to take all you fine people's hard earned money. So, let's play."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Devil on the Shoulder

**Summary:** A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and Erik/Christine.

**Disclaimer: **Phantom isn't under copyright any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, Nadir, and Meg aren't my original characters.

**Author's Note:** I don't promise perfect spelling in this chapter. I was really tired when I finished it. But enjoy and be lenient.

**Chapter Three: Big Baby**

The sweet sound of Justin Timberlake's voice forced Christine from her sleep the next morning. She blindly groped for the nightstand in an effort to silence the song's proclamations of bringing sexy back, her arms hampered by the sheets tangled around her. The ring tone was just about to repeat when Christine finally tugged free of the sheet. The phone was in her hand in an instant and she jammed it clumsily against her ear as she demanded, "What?!"

"Whoa," Nadir flinched away from his phone as her screech pierced his ears. "Did someone have a rough night?"

"Nadir." Christine growled into the receiver in warning, her lips drawing back from her teeth slightly. "Give me a reason not to maim you."

"Yeah, I wasn't too happy being woken up either, but apparently there's this giant bouquet of roses waiting for you in the lobby, and it just can't wait. Fancy that."

Christine sat up in bed, her grogginess disappearing. "From who? Should I go down and get them?"

"Don't be stupid. I have to check them out first. I'll bring 'em up once I'm done." There was a pause in Nadir's speech as a dinging noise rang from the other end of the phone. "Alright, gotta go. I'm on the ground level. See you in, like, five minutes."

There was another pause and Christine move to hang up the phone in her excitement, but stopped when Nadir's voice came again through the ear piece. "And DON'T come down here. I mean it. I'll bring the flowers up to you."

Dejected, Christine muttered, "Fine, be a jerk about it."

It didn't take long for her spirits to lift after she hung up the phone. Her mind sifted eagerly through who could have bought her the flowers, and only one person seemed to fit the crime. Erik. His neglecting her to gamble must have finally gotten to him and he wanted to apologize.

A surge of happiness propelled Christine out of bed. She slipped into her dark red silk robe and tied it securely at the waist before pressing speed dial on her cell. Holding the phone to her ear, she waited for the voicemail to pick up, but was surprised when he answered almost immediately. He launched into a hurried explanation, "Yes, Christine, I'm a little busy right now-"

She interrupted him without thinking, her high-pitched voice even more exaggerated as she bounced on the balls of her feet from excitement. "Erik! You're so sweet! Roses? Just to apologize? You didn't have to!"

On the other line, Erik grew silent. A few seconds passed as he struggled to find something to say. The silence was broken by a loud chicken squawk that sounded from his side of the phone. Christine's eyes widened as the chicken noises were followed by the small shuffling sounds of someone wrestling with something. "Um, what-"

"Christine, can we talk about this later?"

"Was that a chicken?" Christine demanded, propping one hand on her hip, the other holding the phone firmly against her face. "Where are you? Did you leave and go to a zoo without me?!"

His confusion was audible as his normally calm, controlled tone rose slightly. "What? No! First off, there are no chickens in zoos. You're thinking of farms. And second, I'm only downstairs. In fact, I'm on my way back up from the casino now."

"The casino? But then… why do you have a chicken?"

The sound of a man on the other line yelling for Erik to stop made Christine halt in her pacing. Erik spoke hastily into the phone. "I'll explain when I get up there. I have to go, they just saw me-"

"Wait-" Christine started, but frowned when the call cut off abruptly. She stared at the blank screen of the cell phone in confusion for a moment before the sound of the elevator monitor caught her attention. Hurrying into the living area to buzz Nadir up, she saw from the monitor that he was lugging a giant vase full of roses with him.

She clapped at the sight, overcome with anticipation, and waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the penthouse. The doors slid open and Nadir stepped into the penthouse, hefting the roses in front of him. He spotted the coffee table nearby and quickly deposited the vase on it. Christine hovered over him as he stood back up, rubbing his lower back tenderly. "That thing weighs more than it looks."

Christine reached over to pluck the gold and white card from the mass of pastel pink roses. "It's okay, Nadir. You lose strength as you get older. It's a natural occurrence. Maybe you should visit the spa for a massage later? I hear the elderly visitors just love it."

"The hell? I thought Erik was the old one!" Nadir complained as he plopped down onto the couch by the coffee table, his head lolling against the backrest.

Shrugging, Christine opened the envelope with her fingernail and removed the folded card. "Hey, you're the same age as the old man. Besides, he's already going senile, so making fun of him isn't as amusing as before. He doesn't get the jokes like he used to."

Without warning, the elevator buzzer rang twice, announcing another arrival. This time, the doors opened on their own, as the visitor had a keycard.

Erik strode out of the elevator and through the living room without so much as a glance at the Christine or Nadir, who both stared at him as he passed. In his arms was a lumpy bundle he had wrapped in his jacket. Christine craned her neck to get a better look, but he moved too fast. He was in the bedroom with the door shut before she could get a closer glimpse.

She tapped the forgotten flower card against her chin as she watched the closed door for a moment. Turning to Nadir, she asked, "Did that thing he was carrying look like it was moving?"

Nadir stood up and walked over to retrieve something up off the ground near the elevator. Confused, he held a small, brown feather between his index finger and thumb so Christine could look at it. "I think Erik found a pet."

Christine tossed the unread card onto the coffee table as she jumped up from her seat. She rushed to the bedroom door and reached for the doorknob only to find Erik had locked it. Red hot anger flashed through her as she knocked loudly and jiggled the handle. "Erik, let me in."

Rustling noises, a muffled cluck, followed by quick footsteps. One snap of the lock later and Erik peeked out from a crack between the door and the threshold. "I don't think that's the best idea at the moment."

"Oh, you don't? Well then, I'll just forget about it." She glared at him angrily before she demanded between clenched teeth. "What did you bring into our room?"

"You wouldn't understand, Christine-"

"Then explain it to me," she replied, eyebrows furrowing.

Sighing, he opened to door wide enough for her to slip into the room before shutting it quickly. Christine gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth. A large brown chicken trotted idly across their unmade bed, its beady, black eyes peering at her. She pointed at the bird and asked in a squeak, "WHAT IS THAT?"

Erik rolled his eyes as he locked the door. "It's a chicken, Christine."

"No shit! What's it doing here?" It was hard to ignore the chicken as it leaned its head to one side, then the other, taking in its surroundings.

"The casino was holding her prisoner in a big, glass pen. They were forcing her to play tic-tac-toe against customers. She was amazing, Christine, never lost, not once!" Erik announced, making Christine gawk at him. "Even I couldn't win against her. We tied. I don't know how they trained her to…"

Christine shot him an irritated look and he cleared his throat. "But, long story short, I couldn't stand to see another intelligent creature like me, a kindred spirit, exploited."

"Creature like you." Christine repeated, slowly.

"Yes. This chicken's intellect makes her an outcast among her peers. She could never live a normal life on the farm with all her chicken brethren, but that doesn't mean idiots should take advantage of her genius."

Christine sighed heavily, unable to keep up her anger against such an absurd argument. She pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes, rubbing away the pain that was slowly blossoming in her skull. "Fine, the chicken stays, but it's your problem. I have to get dressed now. I want to spend some time with Meg today. She's been acting weird lately."

Erik sat on the edge of the bed and watched Christine out of the corner of his eyes as she padded to the closet. As she searched methodically through the outfits on hangers, he noticed the way her fingers brushed over the material and he suddenly remembered. "On the phone you said something about roses."

Turning around, Christine smiled at him happily, her chosen outfit in hand. "That's right! Thanks so much, but you could have just said sorry."

"Sorry?" Erik repeated, baffled. He snapped his fingers as he realized what she meant. "Oh! You think I bought the flowers!"

"Didn't you?" Christine raised an eyebrow as she untied the belt around her waist. Her silk robe slid from her shoulders, revealing her matching bra and underwear as she took the clothes off the hanger.

Shrugging, Erik made no attempt to hide his gaze as he watched her dress. "No, actually."

"That's strange. Then who are they from?" Christine buttoned her blouse and started to pull her dress slacks up her legs.

Erik shook his head, dispelling the stupor that had come over him while she was naked and stood up. Jealous spread through him quickly as he replayed their conversation in his mind. "There's probably a card. If they're from that little cop boy, I'm going to be pissed."

"Oh please. I haven't even seen Raoul since the last time I held him at gunpoint. You know that, you big baby." Christine zipped her pants and snagged a tie from the closet before rushing over to him eagerly. "Help me tie this thing. I'm no good with them."

Flipping up her shirt collar, Erik looped the tie around and knotted it like she wanted. "You really need to learn how to tie these yourself."

She gazed up at him through her eyelashes as she smiled. "But this way I get an excuse to do this-"

She reached up and slipped her arms around his shoulders just as he finished tying the tie. Leaning close on her tiptoes, she placed a warm kiss on his chin, the highest spot on his face she could reach without him inclining his head. He lowered his head, running his hand up her neck to tip her chin upward as he said, "You don't need an excuse to kiss me."

His lips drew closer to hers and just as they kissed, a loud knocking at the door broke the mood. Erik growled deep in his throat as Christine yelled toward the closed door, "What do you want!?"

"Hey, Christine, Meg's not answering her phone," Nadir's reply was loud and level from the other side of the door.

This new information worried Christine enough to make her pull away from Erik and answer the door. Erik glared at Nadir, who leaned against the door frame as Christine asked, "Is she busy?"

"I don't know. She knows you're planning to go out with her today. I've called her five times already and she's not answering her cell."

"I'll try her room phone." Christine grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number only to find Meg wasn't answering that phone either. She hung up after the ninth ring and frowned in thought. "I don't like this. She usually picks up on the first or second ring, in case it's a client calling."

"Maybe she's with a client," Erik offered in a monotone voice from his place on the bed near the chicken.

"No, she's not working. She told me she needed a break from… her job." Christine said, pocketing her cell phone. Nodding her head decisively, she pulled her coat from the closet and hurried over to Erik. Before he could react, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him in a brief hug, planting a firm kiss to his left cheek. "I'm going to check on her. I'll see you later."

Erik stared after her as she darted from the bedroom. Nadir grinned at him before following Christine to the elevator. They left him in the room and rode the elevator down to the floor where Meg and Nadir were staying. Nadir led the way to the hotel room in the middle of the hall and motioned to the door. "That's Meg's room. Mine's right next door."

Christine rapped her knuckle against the door three times and waited. After a long, drawn out pause, the door creaked open an inch and Meg peered out. Her voice wavered as she said, "Hey, Christine… I don't really feel like going out today…"

Knowing full well what a woman who had been sobbing hysterically only moment's prior sounded like, Christine barged into the room and slammed the door before Nadir could follow her. "Why are you crying?! Are you okay?"

Meg had stepped back when Christine forced her way into the room and was now leaning against the wall. The whites of her eyes were red and veined from crying, the skin of her eyelids puffy. More tears welled up and cascaded down her cheeks as she managed from a hoarse throat, "I think I'm pregnant."

"What? Are you sure?" Christine asked, shocked at the revelation.

"Pretty sure. All the pregnancy tests I've taken are positive," Meg gulped as she rubbed at her eyes, sobs shaking her shoulders as she fought to keep from breaking down. "I'm going to have to get an abortion."

Christine's eyebrows furrowed in worry as she tried to make sense of what Meg had told her. "An abortion? But won't that hurt the baby?"

Meg stared at Christine as if she were insane, before laughing between sobs. "It'll do more than hurt the baby."

Christine realized what Meg meant and turned red with embarrassment. "Oh. So you don't want to keep it? What does the father think?"

"The father?" Meg scoffed, crossing her arms in the old, worn sweatshirt she wore as relaxation clothes. "Honestly, I probably couldn't pull him out of a line-up. So I don't know what the father has to say about this. But I'm willing to guess he doesn't care about a pregnant prostitute or an illegitimate child."

"How long has this been going on?" Christine wondered, crossing the room to sit on the unmade bed. Meg shrugged, plucking at a stray thread on her sweatshirt.

"I missed my period about a month ago, but didn't think much of it. I don't really keep track of those things." She chuckled once at her own stupidity. "If I had to guess, I'd say I'm about a month and a half along. Almost two."

"You don't look pregnant." Christine commented, eyes focused on Meg's abdomen as she searched for any sign of extra life.

Meg rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's supposed to show until at least a few months in. But I don't know. I'm not a baby expert."

Christine jumped up as she remembered something. "We could ask Nadir! He had a kid once, so he should know something about pregnancy, right?"

Before she could make it to the door, Meg stopped her. "No! Christine, no. I don't want anyone else to know about this until I figure out what I'm going to do."

"But-"

"I'm serious. I don't want Nadir or anyone else to think badly of me just because I have to make a tough decision right now. I can't put the life of a child I've never met before my own." She stated, looking down at her socks, her shoulders slumped. "That's just not who I am."

She glanced up at Christine, her eyes brimming with tears as she choked on her words, "I'd make a horrible mom, don't you think?"

Christine grabbed Meg in a hug just as she broke into heartrending sobs again. Brushing her hand through Meg's unruly, blonde hair, Christine murmured soothingly to her. "It'll be okay, I'm here. You aren't alone. Whatever you decide, you're still my friend and I love you."

The sun was setting later that day when Erik came back up to the room from gambling at the casino. He entered the penthouse and froze in place when his eyes rested on the silhouette of Christine sitting at the large window across the room. Her hooded gaze watched the scene out the window, the late afternoon sun casting orange, pink, and even purple streaked clouds across the sky.

He mistook the sadness in her eyes for a quiet, introspective look and was struck dumb by just how beautiful she was. Her dark brown curls caught the light of the setting sun, tinting her hair with orange and gold highlights. The sunlight glinted off her lip gloss, making her full lips look wet and enticing. Erik stepped forward silently, inching closer to where she sat without alerting her to his presence.

She sighed heavily, propping her chin on her palm and resting her elbow on the window sill. Erik knelt down beside her chair and wrapped his arms around her waist, burrowing his face in her waves of hair. Christine didn't even jolt in surprise, merely sighed again and as Erik craned his neck up to kiss her face, asked, "Erik, what would you do if I told you I was pregnant?"

He pulled back reflexively, shocked and repulsed by her question enough to ruin his mood. "Why? Christine, if you have something to tell me, I need to know so we can figure out what we're going to do."

Christine shook her head and glanced out the window again. "No. It's not me. I was up in Meg's room all day consoling her. We ordered take-out and talked for hours."

"Oh," Erik let out a breath of relief as he realized what the problem was. "So Meg's finally gotten the most dangerous STD of them all."

Gasping, Christine covered her mouth and turned to him in her seat. "Oh no, Erik, I wasn't supposed to tell!"

"You weren't? Well, I'll remember not to tell you any important secrets in the future."

"Erik!" She squealed in protest, her voice rising to painfully high levels. "This is serious! She wants to get an abortion, but I told her that would hurt the baby."

"Yes, that's kind of the idea, Christine." Erik stated, pushing to his feet and shrugging out of his suit jacket. He draped his discarded jacket over the back of a nearby couch and slipped out of his underarm gun holster. "But I can see why she'd want to have an abortion. It's not like the child was planned, and you know she doesn't want it or else she wouldn't be thinking of getting rid of it."

"But there are other ways of handling it! Adoption, for example."

"Yes, but you forget that she makes her living from her body. That's a whole nine months out of work at least. I'm not sure many men have pregnancy fetishes."

"Ew," Christine scrunched her face up for a moment. "But think about it. What if your mom got an abortion when she was pregnant with you? Then you wouldn't be here!"

"I've actually wished she had before." He said, voice cool and even. "I was an unwanted child and she oftentimes blamed me for the way her life turned out. You couldn't imagine how horrible it felt knowing the one person you loved more than anyone else hated your very existence."

"No child should have to earn its love," Erik finished, sitting down on the couch next to his gun holster. "If she's going to force her problems off on the kid, then it would be better if she just got an abortion. That way she has no one else to blame but herself."

Christine was staring at him with her mouth hanging open and eyebrow's drawn together. "How could you say that you wish your mom hadn't given birth to you? No matter how much pain you went through, you're happy now, right?"

"Yes, but Christine, the years of pain and death in my life far outweigh what little happiness I've finally found."

"So if I got pregnant, you wouldn't want me to keep the child? Even though it was half yours?" He could see the tears building in her eyes, but wouldn't lie to her.

"Especially because it was half mine," He said tiredly. "If the child was 100 yours, there'd be nothing to fear. I'd be unable to deny it love. But the chance that it could be cursed with my hideous face or worse… I'd never force that on someone else."

They lapsed into an oppressive silence, Christine's sadness having grown even greater since Erik's return. After a few minutes of not talking to each other, Erik got to his feet again and strode to the elevator. Christine glanced up at him with tears in her eyes just in time to see the elevator doors shut behind him.

Erik found Nadir sitting at stool in the bar area when he went downstairs to get a drink. Rolling his eyes, he picked a seat a ways down the counter from the half drunk bodyguard in an attempt to be left alone. However, Nadir picked up his tall glass of beer and sauntered over to the stool next to Erik, a big, goofy grin on his face. "Hey, pal! Does Christine know you're down here by yourself? I'm sure she'd liked to have joined you."

"Shut up, Nadir," Erik grumbled as he motioned for the bartender. "A bottle of Germain-Robin V57 Single Barrel and a snifter."

"The whole bottle, Sir?" The bartender double checked, unsure. "You do realize it's over $130 a bottle."

"Yes, the whole thing. I'll take what's left with me to my room." Erik stated, slipping a few bills onto the counter to get the man moving. The bartender left to get the brandy without another word of hesitation.

"Ooo, big spender!" Nadir laughed, gulping some of his drink. "Too good for some old-fashioned American beer?"

"Maybe when it stops tasting like horse piss," Erik stated, leaning against the counter as he waited for his alcohol.

"So why are you down here? I mean, you have a hot girl waiting for you upstairs. If I was you-"

Erik took the fat, round glass from the bartender and held it while the man filled it half full before setting the bottle down on the counter. "Christine got mad at me because I said I understood why Meg wanted an abortion."

"An abortion? But wouldn't she have to be pregnant to get an abortion?"

Erik stared at him blankly, but when Nadir continued to look puzzled, he snapped, "I swear, you and Christine are two of the dumbest people I know. I have no idea how either of you stayed alive this long."

Nadir swirled the contents of his half drunk glass around as he asked, "But how would she have gotten pregnant?"

"Are you seriously asking me this?" Erik demanded, downing the rest of his first snifter of brandy and pouring another. "She's a prostitute! Pregnancy is an occupational hazard for her just like dying is me."

"Erik, I don't expect you to understand, but I've had a child. I raised Reza alone from the time his mother died until he finally lost his battle with leukemia." Nadir frowned deeply as he held out his empty glass for a refill. "Every moment he lived was a gift. As a father, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that all children are worth the pain and uncertainty raising them causes."

The bartender handed him a full glass of beer. "I can see why Meg would be afraid. Hell, I was scared shitless when my girlfriend told me she was pregnant. But Reza was the best thing that ever happened to me. And God knows I'd give anything to be a father again."

Erik gulped down another mouthful of brandy as he pondered Nadir's words. "I could never think that way."

Nadir shrugged dismissively. "You never know until you're in the situation. Some men can rise to the challenge. But if Christine came to you, alone and vulnerable, and said she was carrying your child, could you abandon her?"

The image of Christine crying upstairs alone, unable to understand why he hated the thought of having a child with her so much, tore through his mind. He was overwhelmed with a strong surge of remorse and misery at the thought of leaving her for any reason. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "No. I couldn't leave her alone after all we've been through. She means more to me than anything in my life."

Raising his glass of beer in a salute, Nadir smiled. "That's a good answer. You'll be fine."

Erik finished off his second drink in a few gulps and motioned to the bartender, slipping him another few bills. "Have this bottle delivered to the penthouse."

He stood from his seat and straightened his tie, having left his suit jacket upstairs. "No reason to stay here with you when there's a hot girl waiting for me, isn't that what you said earlier?"

Nadir nodded, still grinning as he continued to drink his beer. "Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't. I'm just gonna… have another drink."

When Erik reached the elevator, he paused with his hand poised over the number panel. Begrudgingly, he pressed the second highest floor on the menu and waiting uneasily for the elevator to arrive. Before he knew it, he was outside of Meg's closed door, hand raised to knock. He hesitated, then lowered his hand as he shook his head. "What am I doing? It's not like she's MY friend. This isn't my problem…"

He had just turned to walk back to the elevator when the door flew open and Meg stepped out. She bumped into his back and dropped her empty ice bucket. Erik whirled back around, moving out of the way and Meg stared at him confused. "What are you doing here?"

Erik didn't reply at first, just stood in silence as his mind clamored for an appropriate reply. Finally, he realized looking imposing wasn't working as well as he'd hoped, so he brushed passed her into the room. She bent down to grab the empty bucket before following him in.

Staring around the room, Erik noticed a row of used pregnancy tests lining the dresser along with a wad of Kleenex. Cringing in disgust, he tried to fix his expression into one of concern only to fail. "Nice, Meg. Very sanitary."

"Yeah, well, when you're worried you might be carrying someone's bastard, having a clean room isn't all that important suddenly." Meg replied, hands on her hips. "I take it Christine blabbed? But what I don't get is why you're here."

"I don't quite get it myself, actually."

She leaned forward and sniffed experimentally before stepped back. "You reek. Been hitting the bottle, huh?"

"A little. But that's not the reason I came to see you-"

"Oh great!" Meg threw her hands in the air huffily. "You found out I'm pregnant and now you want me to play out some sex fetish you have. Well, I'm sorry, you're my friend's kept man and I'm not getting involved in that."

"WHAT?" Erik demanded, angrily. "That's- What are you talking about! No!"

Meg shrugged, leaning her head to the side, her messy blonde ponytail swaying with the movement. "Hey, what am I supposed to think? You DO have a Mommy complex."

Erik rubbed his temple, eyes closed against her stupidity. "Putting that aside. I think you have enough of your own problems, you don't need to pick apart mine."

Meg hunched over, her arms wrapped around herself and eyes downcast. "This is exactly why I didn't want anyone else knowing. Now you think I'm a horrible person."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Erik tried not to watch Meg as she broke down into sobs, covering her face with her hands. "That's not true. Stop crying. Christine said you were thinking about aborting. And speaking as an unwanted child to a soon-to-be mother of an unwanted child, I agree with your decision."

Meg stopped crying, staring at him with huge, red eyes as he continued softly, "Or, at least I did. Many years of pain being raised by a woman who blamed me for everything instinctively makes me want to agree with you. But Christine has a point. No matter how much pain you go through, so long as there's life there's hope for happiness."

"Of course, there's also the crushing blow every time that hope fails you, but hey. Generally she has a point." Erik muttered, hands in his pockets as he tried to think of an escape plan. "So… just do what you have to. Whatever decision, it doesn't matter in the end."

After a pause of confusion, Meg burst into watery laughter. "You're really bad at making people feel better!"

"Yes. And you're a whore." He stated, warily as he edged toward the door. "I kill people, I'm not here to make you feel good about yourself."

"Sure," Meg grinned. "It's okay, you're just shy. Underneath that prickly, crotchety exterior, you're a push-over."

"That's what I am." Erik said without conviction. "A push-over with a gun and deadly accuracy. You look like you're fine. So I'm going to leave now."

Erik jerked open the door abruptly and found himself staring at Nadir who was waiting with his hand up as if to knock. They glared at each other guardedly. As they slid passed each other hesitantly, Erik said, "Never speak of this."

"Right. My lips are sealed." Nadir nodded. Erik stalked back down the hall to the elevator, leaving Nadir and Meg alone in her room.

Meg crossed her arms, sticking her hip out as she pursed her lips. "What are you doing here? Did you come here to lecture me too?"

Nadir paced in the room as Meg shut the door again. "No, I just… well, kids are a tough subject for me to be level-headed about."

"Yeah, I know." Meg said quietly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Reza, right."

Nadir nodded, lips tight in a thin frown. She watched him sadly as the fine wrinkles around his eyes seemed to get deeper as his brow creased. "He was a great kid. His mom and I, when she told me she was pregnant, we thought about abortion. How could we not? We weren't married or anything. It's a gut reaction to such a life altering change. People don't like change."

"And kids are change. They're everything new and strange that life brings. They can drain your energy, especially at first." Nadir looked up at her, meeting her gaze without reservation. She held her breath involuntarily, touched by the warmth in his dark brown eyes. "But they're so much fun, Meg. I learned more from Reza than I ever thought I would."

Tears escaped from the corner of her eyes and Meg wiped at her face. "I don't know what's wrong with me… I can't stop crying today…"

Nadir fumbled in his pockets for a handkerchief, but when he found nothing, he spotted the wad of Kleenex on the dresser and grabbed it. He held it out to Meg, who cringed away from him. "Ew, no, Nadir!"

Confused, he glanced over at the dresser and saw the line of used pregnancy tests where he had found the Kleenex. His eyes widened and he quickly threw the Kleenex wad into a nearby garbage bin. "What the hell, Meg! Who leaves peed on tissue on their dresser!"

"A distraught, pregnant woman!" Meg snapped. "What kind of guy tries to wipe a girl's face with used Kleenex?!"

They glared at each other, panting with anger before Nadir ran to the bathroom and scrubbed his hand with water and soap. When he returned, he was drying his hands with a white hand towel warily. "You didn't aim for this towel during your peeing frenzy too, did you?"

"Shut up!" Meg hissed, face reddened as he smirked and threw the towel at her face after he was done drying his hands. She snatched the towel midair and then noticed Nadir reaching into his jacket pocket. His hand emerged holding a checkbook and pen. "What are you doing?"

He flipped open the checkbook and started writing on the check. Taking a deep breath, he said, "How much."

"What? For what?" Meg asked, unsure. A small surge of excitement filtered through her as she wondered if he was asking her for sex. She'd never really thought of him that way before, he was just Nadir. But now that the opportunity presented itself, she found herself tingling with anticipation.

He wasn't an ugly man, despite the shininess of his bald head. He'd recently shaved his goatee and his face was smooth. She'd always thought his slightly curved nose reminded her of an eagle's beak. It was her favorite feature of his.

"How much to buy your baby." Nadir finished, the look on his face completely serious. Meg stared at him in shock, unable to formulate a reply.

While Erik was leaving Meg's room, Christine was sprawled out across the whole loveseat with her arm over her face. She heaved a dramatic sigh and peered over at her cell phone on the coffee table. Erik still hadn't called or come back. He hadn't even told her where he was going. For all she knew, he was dead in a ditch somewhere. Or more likely, he was leaving people dead in ditches all throughout the city.

Suddenly, her default cell phone ring sent her flying to her feet, scrambling to grab her phone. "Hello, Christine Daae, how can I help you?"

The voice on the other end was tentative and male, but didn't immediately register. "Hi, Christine, this is J. J. Yesterday, we discussed maybe going around town. I was wondering if you got the flowers I sent."

"J. J., yes, Mr. Crowley's son. The flowers were from you? How sweet!" Christine chirped, though she was slightly confused. "I thought were you going to call my secretary and set up a time."

"Well, the thing is, you'd said you hadn't really gotten a chance to leave your room and I was worried you still hadn't done anything fun. So I wanted to invite you to dinner with me tonight. Maybe around eight?"

Christine glanced up at the large, flashy clock on the wall that read 6:30 PM. Her first worry was that Erik would be mad, but she squashed the thought in irritation. What did he care? He'd had plenty of chances to take her out. If she wanted to have some fun, that was her business!

Still, the uneasy feeling in her stomach told her to call him before making any commitments. She said, "It sounds great, just let me double check my plans for tonight. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

"Okay, I'll be waiting," J. J. said before hanging up. Christine sighed and sat back on the couch, leaning against the backrest.

The buzzer for the elevator rang and Christine slowly got up to see who was visiting. The monitor showed Erik waiting and she pressed the access button. The doors swung open and he stepped out.

On his way up to the penthouse, Erik had been working out how best to apologize to Christine. After thinking about it and talking to Meg, he'd realized just how grateful he was to have her. She was constantly showing him new things about himself, and she stayed by him even when he was being unreasonable or brooding.

Honestly, he didn't know what she saw in him, but he needed to let her know he loved her. "Christine, I'm sorry about what I said-"

"Hey, Erik. If you were me, and another mafia boss asked you to have dinner with them, would you do it?" She interrupted before he could express his jumbled thoughts.

Taken back at her question, he said, "Of course. You have to go. You can't risk offending them over something petty like dinner."

She slowly drew her gaze up from his feet to meet his eyes sheepishly. "I was worried you'd say that, but I kinda figured. Well, I gotta get ready to leave."

"What?" He started after her as she walked toward the bedroom. "But, I wanted to talk to you about some things…"

Christine sent him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Erik, I only have an hour and a half to get ready. And I have to call him back to confirm the time."

"For what? What's going on?" Erik tried to follow her into the bathroom only to have her place a halting hand on his chest and push him gently back out the door.

"I've got a dinner date with J. J. at 8 o'clock." She sighed tiredly. "It's funny, I didn't do anything all day and I still feel like crap. Maybe I'm getting sick."

Before he could think of anything to say that would stop her, Christine closed the bathroom door to get ready.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Devil We Know

**Title:** Devil on the Shoulder

**Summary:** A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and Erik/Christine.

**Disclaimer: **Phantom isn't under copyright any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, Nadir, and Meg aren't my original characters.

**Author's Note:** To all those who demanded more. Never stop demanding. Watch out for sex toward the end of the chapter. It'll getcha.

**Chapter Four: She makes him stupid.**

Erik was beginning to wonder if Christine had forgotten about her appointment with J. J. The big clock on the wall of their bedroom showed it was 7:30 PM and she was still in the bathroom. As he'd waited for her, he changed clothes and freshened up enough to be presentable at the meeting.

Even if he was only going as a bodyguard, Erik wanted to look professional and composed, especially considering who Christine's date was.

"Not a date," Erik grumbled, teeth bared slightly.

"Oh, you look nice," Christine chirped from behind him, making him jolt in surprise. He glanced down to find her slipping an earring into place, her bathrobe secured around her. She'd already done her make-up and hair, all that was left was to pick her outfit. "Are you going out too?"

He stepped out of her way when she nudged his side with her index finger. "Of course. I'm escorting you to your meeting with Crowley's son."

Her hand stilled on the hanger of a dress before she snatched it up. Smoothing the wrinkles from the fabric, she said, "No, you're not. Nadir is going as my bodyguard. If something comes up, you're on the speed dial of both our phones."

"I'm not allowed to come with you." It wasn't so much a question as a bitter revelation.

Christine heard the all the pain that he kept from that statement. Her eyebrows furrowed as she sent him a pleading look. "Erik, please…"

He evaded her hand as she reached out to soothe him. "Am I not fit to be seen with you?"

Her hand dropped back to her side as a fist. "Stop it! I don't want you to see me and him together! I won't put you through that."

"I'm going to be smiling and laughing with him tonight. And even if it's all fake, even if I hate every moment of it, I refuse to let you see me acting like a…" she looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "A whore. Because that's what a woman in this business has to be seen as to survive. And I can't do it if you're there."

The mask made deciphering his blank expression harder than usual, but Christine forced herself to brush passed him toward the bathroom. Normally, changing in front of him was not an issue, but there was an air of instability about him at the moment that promised trouble if she did anything more to upset his balance.

She didn't even get halfway to the door before his hand was around her wrist, a firm grip that startled her into dropping the hanger she carried. The dark red fabric of the dress pooled on the carpet between them.

Even through the black leather of his gloves, Christine's pulse thundered against his thumb. Was that a hint of fear in her wide, brown eyes? He stepped forward until they stood only inches away from each other and she had to crane her head back to look up at him. "Is that really why you don't want me with you?"

He reached out and twisted a lock of her chestnut hair through his fingers as his lips hovered over hers, centimeters apart. "I find your sudden modesty very suspicious."

Every nerve in her body was focused on him until those words left his lips. Better than a bucket of cold water.

"I was being considerate, you ass!" Christine shoved both hands into his chest, pushing him away before she tore open her robe, throwing it to the floor in a huff. Now clad only in her bra and panties, she grabbed the blood red dress off the ground and then jabbed a finger at him angrily. "There, is that better? Get a good look, because until you apologize for what I think you just accused me of, you can just stay the hell away from me!"

She stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

His anger left him frozen in place for a few seconds as he stared after her. The ding of the elevator finally snapped his attention away from the bathroom door. He trudged to the living room and found Nadir smiling and waving on the elevator monitor. Erik pressed the speaker button. "Go away."

Nadir leaned toward the speaker to reply. "Sorry, Erik. Boss's orders. I got no say in it. So, you gonna make this difficult?"

He was fully prepared to walk away, forgetting about Nadir's presence completely, but a thin, feminine hand reached passed him to press the button that granted him access to the penthouse. Christine stepped back, her silky, red dress just the right combination of clingy and fluid as it moved with her.

He watched her out of the corner of his eyes and his heart beat faster. She was beautiful, brushed and polished to perfection… and all for another man. She didn't even glance at him as she waited for Nadir to step out of the elevator. "Nice. You look pretty hot-"

"Come on, it's late." Christine grabbed Nadir by the arm and hauled him back into the elevator with such force that he stumbled before catching his balance against the metal wall.

"Whoa! What's the rush? Don't you wanna say 'bye' to your boyfriend?"

"Shut up, Nadir," Christine shot her bodyguard a warning glare as the doors snapped shut, hiding them from Erik's view. He could almost imagine their bickering as the elevator descended.

Christine's cold departure replayed in his mind, her refusal to look at him as she walked into the elevator with Nadir, her rigid stance as the doors slid shut. Every time the memory repeated, his emotions threatened to overwhelm reason; he was a volatile creature on the edge of rage. His hands clenched into fists as he paced the perimeter of the living room area, breathing erratic.

He paused as a sliver of rationality whispered he might be overreacting. Christine was only doing what was needed as head of her mafia group. She wasn't interested in the Crowley boy beyond what he meant as the heir to another influential group.

Closing his eyes, Erik leaned his head back and sucked in a ragged breath. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find a circular mirror decorating the living room wall. His masked expression stared back at him from the glass, taunting him in his misery. The look of himself, that sallow skin almost the same color as the porcelain mask he hid behind, the lines of age and pain under his eyes – it made him sick.

His gloved hand crept up to caress the half-mask, lingering a second as disgust built within him. If not for that… if he'd been born normal…

He struck out at the mirror as his hatred engulfed him sending translucent pieces spinning to the ground. His knuckles welled blood where skin had met glass, but not bad enough to warrant bandages. Now that the impulsive violence had ebbed, Erik surveyed the damage. One broken mirror wasn't too bad, but if he stayed cooped up in the penthouse with his memories taunting him, there would be more drawn blood and shattered glass.

As he strode toward the elevator, Erik snatched his black overcoat from the closet and checked for his wallet. He'd need it where he was going. Winning other people's money always helped calm him down.

The sun had set by the time Christine and Nadir were shown into the penthouse suite at the top of the Golden Lotus, Crowley's hotel and casino on the Strip. The large windows stretching from floor to ceiling revealed the deep blue-purple night sky, stars outshined by the city below.

J. J. stood up from the brown, leather couch as they entered, escorted by his secretary who had been waiting for them at the front of the hotel. He was wearing a sharply pressed black suit, standard business attire if not more expensive than the average suit. His blonde brown hair was too carelessly good-looking to have been brushed that way by accident.

As she approached, he held his hand out and smiled. "I was worried you'd back out!"

Christine grinned, curling one corner of her lips as she slipped her hand into his, casual even as he bowed his head to kiss her knuckles. His lips tickled the skin of her hand and she fought to keep from laughing at the absurdity of his gesture. As he straightened, she glanced around the area expectantly. "Are we going out to eat?"

"Actually, I had our head chef make some of his best dishes."

Forcing a smile to her face, she said, "So, we're staying in?"

He motioned for her to follow him as he rushed toward the spiral staircase in the middle of the penthouse area. Christine glanced at Nadir, who shrugged and followed J. J. in front of her to make sure everything was safe. She waited at the bottom of the stairs until Nadir yelled, "Come on up."

Christine ascended the steps slowly, not eager for what waited at the other side of the door at the top of the stairs. Her mind wandered back to Erik, alone in their hotel room. Irritation burned through her as she realized he probably wasn't in their room anymore, but down in the casino gambling.

A gust of cool wind hit her full force as she threw open the door to find herself standing at the very top of the Golden Lotus. The roof was a large, flat cement area with a low fence surrounding the perimeter to keep visitors away from the edge. J. J. held out a chair pulled back from the dinner table near the center of the roof. The table was set with two china plates, a beautiful candle centerpiece and too many types of silverware.

She sat down and scooted her chair in, gingerly spreading out a cloth napkin across her lap as J. J. took his seat on the other side of the table. A waiter leaned in to light the candles. "Well? How do you like the view?"

The lights of Vegas glittered brilliantly all around them. It was nice, but it could have been better. Mostly, if Erik had been there with her, enjoying this wonderful dinner.

"Where's your hitman tonight?" J. J. asked as the waiter poured their glasses of wine. "I got the impression that he liked to follow you around."

Christine sighed, watching the red liquid swirl from the bottle into her glass. "I gave him the night off. He's good at his job, but he can get annoying after a while."

"Why do you keep a hitman around? Can't you just hire those as the need arises?"

She shrugged, lifting her glass to her lips. "He's the best at what he does. It's best to keep him at my side. He can't accept hits on me that way." She set the wine glass down and smiled at him knowingly. "But you didn't bring me all the way over here to talk about Erik, did you?"

"I like to know my competition," was all J. J. said. It sent a small shiver through her as she tried to make sense of his statement, but then he was talking again, his tone suddenly sympathetic. "I heard about the heist. I'm sorry it happened at your casino."

Crossing her arms, Christine leaned back in her chair. The wind was picking up, sending her long, curly brown hair swooping over her shoulders. "Yeah, but I've got one of my best minds on the case."

She remembered the intense look of concentration on Erik's face as he reviewed the security tape from her casino for the night of the heist. Warmth swelled within her as she thought of the effort he was putting forth for her. "He'll figure it out, no problem."

Silence stretched between them until J. J. finally laughed, "That's reassuring. I know how important it is for you mafia bosses to always appear in control. I doubt my father would rely on anyone if he had a choice. But, just don't think you're alone, Christine."

He reached out to touch her hand lightly. She let him graze her skin for a moment before pulling back to pick up her silverware. It was going to be a long dinner.

On the street below, Erik was storming away from the Bellagio's casino entrance, his dark trench coat swinging against his legs as he went. He had to get away. Now.

He'd tried to forget about the fight with Christine by participating in a few card games at one of his favorite casinos on the Strip. The first time he lost, he was stunned, but tried again. Five losses later, he was about to have words with the slimy, old cardsharp who'd won most of his chips. Instead, he'd said, "I'm out." And that was that.

He rarely lost at Poker. And yet, Christine had single-handedly taken the fun out of one of his most beloved hobbies: winning other people's money.

Without his calm demeanor, the list of enjoyable things to do in Vegas had suddenly gotten a lot shorter. Grimacing, he started down the street in the direction of a liquor store. He was going to need a lot of booze and tickets. To a Cirque du Soleil show.

During his trek to a liquor store, he noticed a shuffling behind him. There were plenty of people swarming passed him, but the footsteps were almost in time to his own, always the same distance away.

He was being followed. How amusing.

Now that the sound of his stalker's footsteps was ingrained in his memory, Erik could almost feel the person staring at him. Watching, following. But why?

Rounding the corner at a leisurely pace, Erik pressed flat against the brick wall and waited. Any second, his stalker would come trotting around the corner and-

"Phantom?"

He didn't jolt when a voice piped up at his side, but it did surprise him. A reaction any bigger than a raised eyebrow would have been unprofessional.

No one came around the corner now. He'd missed his chance.

Gritting his teeth, Erik turned his head to glance at his newest stalker. A man in an unimpressive, black suit peered at him cautiously. "Yes."

"You are the Phantom? Good, I have a message from Jack Crowley."

"Which one."

The man's brow furrowed in confusion. "Senior. Of course. He wants to speak with you as soon as possible. He'll be waiting at this address…"

He handed Erik an ivory, embossed business card with a raised design of a rhino's head. The striking, black font read, "The White Rhino, gentlemen's lounge," along with the street number and information.

He wanted to sigh and ask, "Are you serious?" But settled instead for asking the thin, unimposing lackey, "How much do you get paid?"

"What?"

"Idle curiosity. A ballpark estimate that a man like you makes." He pocketed the card. "It can't be much. What other odd jobs does he have you doing? Do you pick up his dry cleaning?"

Confused, the suited minion said, "On occasion… why?"

Shaking his head, Erik walked away from the man. He wouldn't ignore the summons. That would be stupid. He slipped his cell phone out of his suit pocket and dialed 411. First he'd check on those tickets. His bastard father could wait. Drunken Cirque took precedence.

Unfortunately, thirty minutes later, he was entering the upscale strip club. Erik hadn't foreseen the possibility that Cirque du Soleil might be sold out.

The club was dimly lit with checkered black and white flooring. A wide, circular stage area was raised near the back of the club with a few poles positioned around the edge of the stage for various dancers. Lining the walls were numerous tables for the patrons along with a bar on the wall adjacent to the stage.

Crowley was sitting on the bench half of a table nearest the stage, two bodyguards stationed on either side of his seat. They moved forward, halting his approach as he neared. Crowley waved them back and gestured to the seat across the table. "Sit."

He took his time sitting down. No reason to rebel this early in the conversation, and yet, he didn't want to hop to Crowley's orders like one of his toy soldiers. Erik sat back in his chair hands in his pockets. Let them think he was reaching for a gun.

"You've got guts coming here alone." Crowley grunted, eyes straying to a lithe dancer, her leg hooked on the pole, twirling around with a sort of gritty grace. "What makes you think I won't kill you right now."

"The reason you think I won't do the same to you." He muttered, grudgingly, his gaze skittering away from the stage. Prostitutes and strippers weren't necessarily the same, but his skin still crawled in this place. The whole club stank of sex, bought and traded. And here, his father. No wonder his mother was a whore. "Miss Daae. You want something from her and I'm her hired gun."

"Hm." Crowley stroked his gray-speckled moustache with one hand. "I doubt that's all you are to her."

Erik's eyes narrowed sharply, but he didn't reply. Crowley continued, undaunted. "Don't glare at me, Phantom. You're her kept man. The girl's got twisted taste, but you're still a novelty."

He let the words roll over him, focusing on the dull glow of rage crackling within his core. No doubt his jaw muscles were visibly clenched to keep from hurling insults. "Do you know who else was twisted? My mother. You found something interesting about her, though, didn't you?"

A wicked grin crossed Jack Crowley's lips as his eyes focused on another stripper, even as he replied, "Oh yeah."

Bile clawed up from his stomach and Erik forced the wave of nausea back again. "I'm sure. Was there a point to this meeting?"

"My son is going to ask Christine to marry him."

Erik laughed once, not amused in the least. "Oh, is he? Well, send me a wedding invitation. I'll try to keep my calendar clear."

"He has a hell of a lot more to offer her than you do." Crowley snapped, his large hand gripping the edge of the table firmly. "You're a good hitman. That's all. You're lying to yourself if you think she's doing anything more than her mother did."

Pure hatred shot through his veins at the comparison. Crowley saw the slight change in expression and smirked. "I remember how Elizabeth strung you along everywhere she went. All she had to do was bat her eyelashes at you and off you went, guns blazing. How many did you kill for her? Christine's got good sense to use you like her mom did."

The dried scabs on his knuckle cracked open as Erik balled his hand into a tight fist within his pocket. Fresh blood seeped out of the cuts, stinging from the pressure.

"There are plenty of quality men out there waiting for her. Men with power to match hers." Crowley braced a hand against the tabletop as he stood to leave. "You're not even in the running, kid."

Tapping the right side of his face, Crowley added, "You only got yourself to blame for that."

Crowley and his bodyguards left after that and Erik was left in relative silence with the thrumming bass of the speakers as the dancers swayed to the music. As soon as Crowley disappeared out the front door, Erik could no longer hold in his rage. Slamming both fists down onto the table with a loud crash he yelled, "SON OF A BITCH!"

Then he got to his feet, straightened his coat and stalked out of the club without a backward glance.

A few hours later, Christine and Nadir returned to the hotel Daae's penthouse. She sighed heavily, drained from the dinner banter. She'd tried her hardest to keep her mind off Erik, smiling and giggling at the inane jokes J. J. told. Nadir slipped his arm over her shoulders, rocking her into his side as they waited for the elevator to reach the top of the hotel.

"So, what're you and Erik fighting about tonight?" Nadir asked, wedging her between his side and arm, giving her a friendly shake. "Anything new in Crazy Town?"

"Erik hates me." Christine grumbled, pouting.

Nadir burst into laughter, leaning over slightly as he tried to cut his guffaws short. She stared at him with a thin frown as he finally managed, "I guess his craziness must be rubbing off. He doesn't hate you. Hell, I doubt he could ever hate you."

"He thought I was gonna cheat on him with J. J." Christine said in an offended voice, exiting into the living room of the penthouse. "Can you believe that!"

"Yeah." He said then when she sent him a glare, he explained, "I mean, I can believe he'd say that to you. He's good at redirecting his self-esteem issues toward other things. I bet you'd just told him he couldn't go with you to dinner before he said that."

Nadir plopped down on the couch in the living room area, grabbing his Gameboy up from the coffee table with a swoop of his hand. Christine glanced around the penthouse, but wasn't surprised when she couldn't find Erik anywhere. Sarcastically, she announced, "Wow, he's not here. Bet he's at a casino, gambling it up."

"Hey, now. Don't assume." The Tetris theme song rang out from the small, handheld device as Nadir focused his attention on it. "He could be getting wasted and watching Cirque. It's what the intellectuals of Vegas do for fun."

Quirking an eyebrow at him, Christine paced around the room, desperate to keep her mind occupied. A glinting light from the floor near the wall caught her eyes. She crossed the space to where the broken mirror hung slanted from the wall, shards scattered below on the carpet. Smudges of brown-red were dried on the mirror remains.

Christine held back a gasp, hands over her lips. The sound made Nadir glance up from his game. "What's that?"

"He broke the mirror!" Christine exclaimed, unable to tear her eyes away from the blood pressed onto the glass.

"I'm sure if I were him, I'd hate mirrors too."

"He must have been so upset. He's usually such a gentle person."

"Um, hit man. Remember?"

"Shut up, Nadir. You know what I mean." Christine crossed her arms and stomped over to sit on the carpet near the coffee table. She buried her face in her arms as she rested them on the tabletop. "I keep forgetting how sensitive he is to rejection. I shouldn't have been so mean."

"Yeah. He still shouldn't have called you a whore."

"He didn't call me a whore!" Christine snapped. Nadir shrugged, not looking away from the Gameboy.

"A cheater, then. Whatever." Without letting go of his game, Nadir jabbed his elbow in the direction of a file folder resting on the coffee table. "Look, if you're that bored, why don't you check out the file of info Erik made about the heist? It's got employee data, pictures from the security tape, everything."

Christine eyed the folder wearily, sighed in exaggeration, and then threw one arm over the file, dragging it toward her across the table. It was all very dramatic. "Fine. But I won't like it."

The first paper within the file was a blueprint of the Daae casino, ground floor. A transparent sheet of plastic was stapled over it and someone had used red dry erase marker to trace a route from the elevator, around the casino and out the back service exit in a strange pattern. There were small X's in blue dry erase marker made at precise points throughout the map and the red line avoided intersecting with these blue X's. Whenever the two colors met, there was a time labeled next to the point in green marker.

It looked very complicated and strategic to her. She had no idea what it meant.

Flipping through the rest of the file, she found employee records on Gary Clays, Steven Wright, and even the missing Head of Security, Carl Decker. Various other employees Christine had never met were also in the folder, but she couldn't recognize any of them. In the margins of each page of data, notes were scribbled in Erik's bold, capitalized handwriting. On the rare occasion, he'd taken a yellow highlighter to the computer printed words.

"Geez, who's conducting this investigation: him or me?" Christine muttered, head reeling from the sheer volume of research in the file.

Nadir replied without looking up, "Him. Don't feel bad, though. Anytime he does something for you, he kinda goes all over-achiever. I think he wants you to praise him."

Christine hunched over, resting her chin on top of the table as she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, her jaw popping with the sudden action. Heaving to her feet, she stumbled toward her bedroom. "I'm gonna relax in the Jacuzzi before bed. Tell Erik to make sure I haven't drowned in my sleep when he gets in."

"Should I check on you if he doesn't get back soon?"

She grinned over her shoulder at him, rolling her eyes. "You wish. I'll keep my cell phone nearby with the volume up. Call me if you get worried."

Jack Crowley's words still swarmed through Erik's brain as he stormed through the VIP entrance to the Daae hotel. The taunts of his birth right waved before him: had he been born physically flawless nothing would have been beyond his grasp. He'd have the power of Crowley's mafia group, but more importantly, the privilege of being seen as Christine's equal. Theirs could have been a marriage of two, elite mafia families.

As it was, he was plagued with bitter feelings of inadequacy. What did he have to offer her, really? His loyalty, yes, but that was hers from the moment she was born a Daae. Maybe in the beginning, when she was first getting used to her new life as a mafia boss she needed his guidance and advice, but now she was settling into her position. And she had Nadir as a bodyguard and advisor.

What was he to her?

His end of the equation was simple. Erik knew he loved her. She was everything- he kept her foremost in his thoughts at all times. It would be stupid to second guess that, it was rooted in the core of his being. But sometimes love wasn't enough. Weren't his own parents a testament to that?

Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the button announcing his presence to the penthouse and waited for someone to grant him access to the floor. A few seconds later, the elevator started to ascend and he watched with blank eyes as the floor numbers flew passed.

The door slid open and he entered the living room of the penthouse to find Nadir flopped across the couch. The bald man glanced at him as he exited the elevator and then let his head fall back against the cushion before standing up. "Tag, you're it. I'm gonna go check on Meg, so you get to watch Christine."

"Fine, but why are you checking on Meg?" Erik asked, eyeing Nadir as he brushed passed him toward the elevator.

Nadir shot him a disbelieving look, but didn't pause as he made for the elevator. "Um, she's pregnant? Hello?"

"So?" Erik said. "She's been pregnant a while now and no one bothered to spend time with her before."

Before the doors could shut, Nadir rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Well, yeah, but I didn't know or else I would have! She's carrying my baby!"

"That doesn't make any sense," Erik replied as he shook his head. Nadir disappeared behind the closing doors as Erik turned to look for Christine. The room was silent, but the sound of running water led him toward the bathroom. The large, black tiled bathroom had a huge, oval bathtub and an installed Jacuzzi already in use.

The bubbly, frothy water covered her breasts, stopping just below her collarbone as she sat in the ivory and gold Jacuzzi. She had piled her long, brown curls into a messy bun on top of her head, but tendrils of her hair escaped to trail sensuously down her neck. Her skin was rosy from the warm water, radiating a healthy glow. She was leaning her head back, eyes closed.

Without saying a word, he shut the door behind himself and watched her with open admiration. All his poisoned thoughts were forgotten as he gazed upon this beautiful woman before him. He stepped forward and Christine opened her eyes to stare directly at him. Slowly, one corner of her lips curled up in a sly smile that made his heart pound and ears ring. Her beauty stunned him. "You look like you've had a rough time. Are you still mad at me?"

For a moment, Erik wondered if any words would come when he opened his mouth, so he decided to keep it simple. "No."

"Are you sure? I mean, we were both being pretty jerky."

His eyes widened as he watched her fumble her words. Finally, he asked, "Why? Are you mad at me?"

"Not really." She shrugged her shoulders, exposing an inch more of her chest as the water rippled and swayed from the movement. Erik's eyes didn't miss the opportunity and she grinned as she saw his vision dip lower for a fraction of a second. She held out her hands enticingly and asked in a sweet voice, "Wanna join me? The Jacuzzi's great. It'll help you relax."

He hadn't expected the velvety tone of her voice to remind of how terribly tense his shoulder muscles were. In fact, his whole body was still on edge from his meeting with his father earlier. He let his overcoat slip from his shoulders and he tossed it over the counter before raising his hands to loosen his tie. She bit down on a startled gasp as she saw the leather glove on his left hand. It had been scraped down to the skin on his knuckles, the meat of his hand bloody and shredded from glass.

Without worried about her nudity, she climbed out of the Jacuzzi, the water splashing loudly around her as she clamored toward him. The wet tile beneath her feet squeaked and she rushed to grab his injured hand. He watched her as she gingerly tried to pry the torn and bloody material from his hand. She cringed at the leather stuck to his dried blood, though he felt little pain. An amused smile crossed his lips as he gazed at her work.

Unfortunately, she glanced up in time to see the smile. Irritated, she dropped his hand and tugged his tie free from his collar. "Get undressed. Leave that glove on."

"Yes, m'am." He smirked, unbuttoning his blazer as she took care of his belt. He moved on to his vest and dress shirt. When he was finally in his undershirt and boxers, she took the glove off his uninjured right hand. The skin was twisted, red and thin, but uncut from the glass.

Her hands strayed up his emaciated arm, the skin sunken over his bones, until she reached his chest. She tugged lightly at the white, cotton shirt. "Lose it."

Erik hesitated at the command. She saw the same old fears still deep within him and sighed, not impatient, but sad that he had been so traumatized by his disfiguration. Stretching her arms up, she wrapped them around his shoulders, easing him closer to her. Leaning her face toward his, she murmured, "Why is it that I'm always naked before you are?"

She shivered at his touch as he caressed her sides lightly. Always too scared that she would break if he applied too must pressure. His fingers brushed the jagged scar left from the attack at Madame Giry's masquerade party. His eyes met hers, deep brown, nearly black against the black of his irises. A thrill of pleasure shot through her, warming her faster than the bubbling water in the Jacuzzi.

Her lips met his, the kiss soft at first, building in intensity until she broke for air. Her head spun, she was sure she would slump to the floor if not for his steady arms around her waist. She panted to catch her breath, but his lips were already darting warm kisses along her wet skin. His lips traveled lower, along her collarbone and shoulders, until she was reeling from his touch.

Moaning at the loss even as she forced him back so she could meet his gaze, Christine breathed, "Please, Erik. Don't make me beg."

Her nail scraped the white, flawless surface of his mask. He did his best not to let her see him cringe at the thought of being completely vulnerable. When he didn't move back, she took it as an okay to continue. The mask dropped to the floor on top of his discarded clothes.

She pulled him with her toward the Jacuzzi, stripping him of his shirt with little resistance. The deformity that transformed the right side of his face into a twisted, skull-like mess extended down the right side of his neck, chest and arm, giving him a skeletal look, the red, irritated skin thinly veiling his bones.

Her thumb hooked onto the elastic of his boxers, giving it a teasing snap before turning and climbing into the Jacuzzi. He shed the last piece of clothing and followed her in eagerly. The warm water soaked into the glove stuck to his left hand. Christine took his gloved hand in hers under the water and gently tugged it off his mangled knuckles. She tossed the wet, ruined glove onto the tiled floor and brought his wounded hand up to her lips. "Why would you hurt yourself like this?"

"Wasn't really thinking." His voice was husky, distracted. The sadness in her eyes when she looked up at him made him regret his actions. He scooped her into his arms under the water, drawing her onto his lap so he could bury his face in the crook of her neck. The skin there was wet, salty with the remnants of sweat. "Don't be upset, Christine. You know me. I have moments of incredible stupidity."

That roused a single laugh from her that shook her shoulders. He smiled into her skin, eyes sliding closed, blissfully happy just to hold her.

She squirmed in his arms and he sighed, her skin slick against his as he loosened his hold on her slightly. It wasn't until her legs were positioned on both sides of his hips that he opened his eyes.

He was seated on the low bench carved out of the Jacuzzi wall, water up to his chest. Christine was straddling him, her arms looping around his shoulders, leaning in close to catch his unsuspecting lips in a passionate kiss. She nipped his lower lip playfully before planting another kiss to his half-formed nose.

His breath caught in his throat as she lowered herself onto him. His erection slid into her effortlessly, their bodies accustomed to this ancient dance. His hands roamed freely, needing more of her, savoring every inch of flesh he could reach. She kept her own pace, slow at first, unsure, but losing inhibition with every movement. When she arched forward, a sudden cry of pleasure escaping her lips, he nearly lost control. Unable to stand her torturous pace, he pushed away from the seat, wrapping her legs around his waist to steady her in the water.

Her back met the ivory side of the Jacuzzi, pressing firmly against her as he found a better position. One arm wrapped around her back, cushioning her from the hard edge of the Jacuzzi while the other gripped her hip and held her firmly in place. Now that he was in control, he moved instinctively, passion mounting between them. The timing of each stroke became more erratic, frenzied, until finally, she reached her limit.

She moaned his name against his chest, arms curled around his back and up, gripping both shoulders tight. Her hair slipped from the elastic band at the top of her head, her brown curls cascading down her chest, dipping into the water's surface.

He never looked away from her as he lost himself to his own pleasure flaring to a peak between them. She was everything. Only her. Always. Always. His heart pounded a deafening drumbeat in his chest as he rested his cheek on her upturned forehead. They were both panting hard, limbs languid in the bubbling water. He knew she would never let him catch his breath again.

After a few more seconds, he started to move away from her only to have her latch onto him. She nestled close to him, arms clinging to his back as she peered up at him through heavy eyelashes. "Carry me to bed?"

He didn't even try to deny her. Grunting with the weight of her, he scooped her up in his arms like a child and climbed out of the water.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Devil on the Shoulder

**Title:** Devil on the Shoulder

**Summary:** A month after the events in The Devil We Know, Christine is faced with new puzzles to solve as a mafia don and she will have to go to Las Vegas to find answers. Sequel to The Devil We Know. AU and Erik/Christine.

**Disclaimer: **Phantom isn't under copyright any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, Nadir, and Meg aren't my original characters.

**Author's Note:** It's the shortest chapter so far, but I like it. Couldn't really move on without it being unbalanced, so I'll save the Crowley part for next time.

**Chapter Five: exit wounds**

Strong rays of sunlight broke around the edges of the heavy curtains covering the windows in the master bedroom of the suite. Christine snorted in her sleep and rolled face down into her pillow, unwilling to wake just yet. Crisis averted, she sighed softly and let her consciousness begin to slip away.

A loud cluck invaded her sleep-clouded mind, forcing her eyes open wide. She sat up abruptly to find the hen from the previous day standing on the foot of their bed, head cocked to the side. If she didn't know any better, Christine would almost say it was…

The chicken turned her head to get a better look at Erik, who was sleeping unawares. Christine reached out and shook his shoulder, her voice a frantic whisper. "Erik! Wake up!"

"Hn?" Erik grunted, one eye opening in a groggy slit. Christine's hand stilled on his arm as she glanced at the chicken again. The chicken glanced back. A strange wash of fear made her shiver.

"The chicken's watching us sleep!"

Erik's eyebrows rose a few centimeters in surprise and he craned his neck to look at the foot of the bed. The hen strutted once along the edge then returned to the middle of the foot of the bed and stared at them. He rolled his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow. "She's just a chicken, Christine."

"How'd she even get in here!"

"How should I know?" Exasperated, he sat up and flung the blanket off him, startling the chicken enough to have her jump off the bed, wings flapping to no avail.

"Take her somewhere else. I don't want her to poop on the floor!" Christine ordered, irritated. "Can't you just drop her off on a farm?"

"No. There's no telling what they'll do to her on a farm. I won't let her become someone's nugget, Christine." Erik got to his feet, kneeling to scoop the chicken into his arms. He padded toward the door leading out of the bedroom. "We should just ship her back to home."

"Hell no! I don't want a chicken at the house!" Christine called after him as he left toward one of the extra rooms. "Put her in one of the guest bathrooms. Give her water and stuff, though."

After a few minutes, Erik returned empty handed. "I need to buy a pen for her. Some food too."

"What do chickens even eat?" Christine wondered, pulling back the covers as he slipped back into the bed. He scooted to her and wrapped his arms around her. The top of her head fit snugly under his chin and she basked in his nearness. Too many times in Vegas she'd gone to sleep and woken up in a lonely bed with Erik nowhere to be found.

Her fingers traced a random design on the bare skin of his chest and he twitched at the touch. She smiled up at him. "You didn't put your shirt or mask back on yet."

His muscles tensed under her hand and she rubbed her palms flat on his shoulders to ease them again. "No, no, it's a good thing. I like it when you forget."

"Well, the mask is all the way in the bathroom. I'll get it eventually." He said, allowing her hands and words to lull him back into a stupor. They lay in warm silence, drifting in that pleasant state between awake and asleep.

Finally, Christine murmured, "Hey, I remember what I wanted to say."

Erik merely made a noise with his mouth to let her know he wasn't asleep. When she squirmed out of his arms, he frowned, but let her sit up. "Show me something I didn't know you could do."

His eyes widened slightly and he thought for a moment. "There are no torches or swords around… oh, I know."

He shifted up in bed and held his right arm straight for her to see. Then he bent it at the elbow until his arm made an upward parabola. Christine went pale, mouth agape in horror. After a moment, he relaxed his arm and curled his arm to show it was fine. Christine covered her mouth and squealed, "What was that!"

"Double jointed." He said, holding out his hand and using his other hand to press his four fingers at an unnatural, downward right angle to the palm. "Technically, though, my tendons and such are more flexible than normal. That's all."

The whites of her eyes were large, surrounding her irises and dwarfing them with fear. She took his hand in hers and he relaxed his fingers into their natural positions. "But it doesn't hurt?"

He shook his head, smirking, and placed a firm kiss to her brow. "Your turn."

"Oh, I know!" She held out her hand so he could see the top of it straight on, hiding her thumb behind her palm, and pretended her other hand's thumb was connected in its place. She then moved her other thumb away slowly and back to the spot it was supposed to be connected to. "I've got a trick or two up my sleeve."

He quirked an eyebrow at her lame magic trick, but refrained from laughing. She blushed and crossed her arms. "Don't be hating on my trick. My dad taught it to me."

"It's horrible." He grinned, mimicking her hand motions as he explained, "You're not even doing it right. See, you held your other thumb with the nail positioned the wrong way."

She pouted and he inched closer to her, but she swatted at him lightly when he tried to cuddle. "No, no! You're a crotchety old man! See if I show you my other magic tricks!"

Chuckling, he continued to try and nuzzle at her neck, arms hanging around her shoulders despite her struggling. "What? Are you going to pull a quarter out of my ear?"

"More like a stick out of your-" He cut her sentence short with a demanding kiss. When they broke for air, he only gave her a second before capturing her lips again, cupping her face in his hands gently. Her fingers twined in his hair, body pressed flush against his, her curves contouring to his perfectly.

And then Christine's cellphone provided a cheery rendition of "Rich Girl" for mood music. Erik shook his head and clung to her when she moaned and tried to break the kiss to answer her phone. Laughing, she turned her face away from his lips and he dotted kisses along her jaw. "Hey, hey, c'mon, it's Meg. I gotta get this."

Thwarted, he flopped boneless onto the mattress and watched her climb out of bed naked to retrieve her cellphone. Her cute bottom taunted him as she padded over to where her purse lay on the carpet and he cursed himself for letting her out of bed. "Hi, Meg."

"Morning, Pal. Didn't hear from you last night. Nadir told me you and Erik had a misunderstanding."

"It's cool, we made up." Christine said, walking around the room impatiently. She glanced at Erik quickly and found him trying to smother himself with a pillow. "It was hot."

"Oh. Am I interrupting something?"

"Kind of."

"Sorry." Meg paused, not sounding apologetic at all, then asked the infamous question: "So, whatcha doin'?"

Christine, being a female and talkative, took the bait. She sat down on the corner of the bed, crossed her legs, and twirled a lock of her hair idly. "Not much. What're YOU doin'?"

Erik knew that stance and voice. He jumped up from the bed, throwing his hands up in defeat as he snapped, "Get off the phone, Meg!"

"Erik's up too!" Meg laughed, knowing full well he'd be present and listening. "Why don't you put me on speaker phone, we can all gossip about each other."

Christine did so, giggling. "Let's talk about Nadir. That bald son of a bitch is the only one not on the line."

"Hey!" Nadir's indignant screech rang through the phone from Meg's side.

"Hey's right! What's Nadir doing at your room!" Christine demanded.

"He won't leave me alone! I tried to get some snacks from 7-11 last night and he jumped out of his room and followed me!" Meg insisted, her voice unusually high as she complained.

"Don't bitch. You totally loved it," Christine could almost hear Nadir grinning on the other line as he spoke. Meg harrumphed and he continued, "By the way, I'm eating a Slim Jim from the store. I bought a whole handful of them. Tell Erik about it."

Erik glared over at her, a deadly expression meant for Nadir, from the doorway to the bathroom. He spat out the word, "Idiot."

"What's this about Slim Jims?" Christine asked, confused. Erik rushed back across the room toward her, grappling for the phone.

"Nadir, don't you tell her," Erik ordered, but Nadir's laughter was loud and Christine was far too curious. "If you tell her, I'll kill you myself."

Before Nadir could reply, Meg cut in, "Nadir, back up off my phone! Geez. You're breathing on me!"

"Aw," Christine muttered, her fun ended. "What do you want?"

"Nadir won't leave me alone. I figure, even if I try to go out and have a meal, he'll follow me, so I might as well invite you." She sighed. "That way he has a legitimate reason to be there, other than bothering me."

The digital clock on the nightstand displayed the time: 11:36 AM. Without a reason to wake up early, her soul at ease from the lying in her lover's arms all night, Christine was surprised to see how late she'd slept. "Wow, it's almost lunchtime! I'm going to get dressed. Just come over whenever, we'll leave as soon as everyone's here."

She hung up and saw Erik waiting in the bathroom. "Are you coming?"

"What?" She asked, surprised as he held out his hand for her. "We're taking a shower together?"

"They'll be here any minute. If we take one together, it'll be faster."

"Yeah, I doubt that." She returned the grin and hurried after him before he shut the door.

Meg had an intense urge to eat Chinese food. No matter what anyone else tried to suggest, she simply restated her preference for their meal. Finally, Christine huffed, "Damn it! You better remember this when I'm pregnant! I'll be choosing all the food then!"

Erik shuddered to remember his run-in with her favorite food: Mac-N-cheese with hotdogs. This gave him just another reason to keep Christine's uterus free of baby.

The four of them piled into Nadir's rental Benz with Erik and Christine riding in the back. As Erik knew the city best, he acted as back seat navigator while Nadir drove. He gave directions down the Strip to Vegas's nicest, causal Chinese restaurant.

The set-up inside the sit-down restaurant was relaxed, but still impressive. The giant, decorative fans on the wall and the various other themed trimmings added to the polished atmosphere. A young waiter greeted them at the front counter and took them to their booth. Once their orders were placed, they chatted amongst themselves, the conversation dominated by Nadir, Meg, and Christine as Erik half-listened with a bored expression.

The restaurant was rather busy, many families and couples seated at tables surrounding them. The din of laughter and involved discussions required Christine to raise her voice slightly to be heard. Their food arrived fifteen minutes in and Christine fought with her chopsticks to eat her chicken chow mein. Erik watched her out of the corner of his eyes, not sure whether to be amused or horrified that she refused to make use of the fork on her napkin.

"Look," he held up his hand, chopsticks positioned between his index finger and thumb so the ends gradually angled toward each other. He opened and closed the chopsticks a few times for her to see, then gracefully picked up a portion of her food, bringing it up carefully toward her mouth.

Christine was starting to lean in toward him when a small, red dot on his chest caught her eyes. For a moment, she stared, eyebrows drawn in confusion, then she sat back and reached over to wipe the dot away with her hand. When she touched where it was, the dot jumped onto her hand until she moved back, then it returned to the same spot on Erik's chest. Over his heart.

"What are you-" Erik glanced down where she was patting at him. Then he threw her backward, her chair skidding a few feet away as he dove to the ground just as a loud gunshot rang out. The wooden backrest of his chair took the force of the bullet, splinters flying into the air as the bullet burrowed through. Shrieks erupted from the crowd around them.

Erik rolled with the momentum of his dive until he was kneeling upright on the other side of their table. Christine scrambled to her feet, having fallen when her chair was knocked out from under her, and Erik snapped at Nadir, "Do your job."

Nadir was already on his feet, grabbing Christine and dragging her and Meg under the table, shielding both their smaller bodies with his own. Erik had no time to worry about them. They weren't in danger anyway; from the aiming of the gun and actions of the hitman now running, Erik knew the hit was for him. He spotted the lone gunman running for the door, even as the rest of the diners reeled from shock.

The front door jingled as the hitman dashed out, Erik following close on his heels. The man sprinted down the street, arms pumping, the weapon he'd tried to use on Erik holstered at his waist in plain sight. If he hadn't been running after the man, Erik would have sighed and shook his head. "Am I the only professional left in the world?"

The man skidded around a corner, but had to slow slightly to avoid careening into the street beyond the sidewalk. Before he could pick up speed again, Erik's hand grabbed him by the shoulder, hauling the man aside and slamming him into the wall of a nearby building.

The hitman's breath whooshed out, knocked from his body the force of the shove against the brick wall. Even disoriented, the man threw his right fist toward Erik's head, but Erik easily halted the blow by catching the man's forearm. He pinned the man's right arm straight out against the wall. "Right handed, hm?"

A vicious light glinted in Erik's dark eyes as his free hand whipped out to yank the man's gun free from its holster. He smashed the gun full force against the man's forearm. An agonized scream ripped from the man's throat as the butt of the gun fractured his radius and ulna bones near the elbow.

Before the man could recover from the pain, Erik's hand darted to his wrist, twisting the man's hand until the delicate bones of the wrist dislocated and cracked. The hitman's knees gave out from the sheer intensity of the pain, and Erik grinned as he knelt beside him for the last blow.

Erik's hand closed around the gunman's index finger, snapping it easily. This time, the hitman could only manage a feeble grunt to show for the pain. Erik knew the man was on sensor overload, mind reeling from shock and physical torture. Leaning close, he looked into the man's eyes and said, "Go back to your employer. Show him your arm. Tell him if this happens again, it'll be his arm and I'll break it in more than three places."

He stood up again as the hitman crumpled to a heap on the sidewalk, moaning. Before he turned to leave, he kicked the man once in the stomach. Then he left him there, writhing on the cement in the middle of the Strip.

Back at the Daae hotel, Christine was pacing restlessly in the living room of her penthouse suite. Nadir had driven them back after Erik had disappeared from the restaurant and it had been thirty minutes since Christine had seen or heard from him. Unable to keep still while her mind buzzed with worry, she walked circles around the living room, clutching her cell phone to her chest.

She raised the cell phone up and scrolled through her contacts, hands shaking. Glancing up from his seat on the couch, Nadir commanded, "Put the cell phone down, Christine. What if he's doing something that he needs full concentration for? You'll only distract him."

She didn't put the phone down, instead snapping it shut to hold in her hands again. Tears glistened in her eyes as she fought to keep them from running down her cheeks. "How can you be so calm? What if he-"

Christine turned her head away, covering her mouth as she gagged. Recovering her composure, she faced him, the tears finally escaping her eyes. "Nadir, he's all I have left. If he's killed, I don't know what I'll do."

Meg rushed over to her, wrapping her arms around her friend and holding her as she cried. She shot a 'help-me' glare to Nadir, who held his hands up in confusion. Christine sobbed, "Erik's supposed to be the one shooting! Not other people shooting at him!"

"Christine, listen." Nadir said, his voice level and kind. Meg tugged Christine over to the couch and sat down beside her, resting her arm over her friend's shoulders as Nadir spoke to them. "I've known Erik a long time, and in all that time, he's never been shot, stabbed, or otherwise wounded by a hitman."

Christine sniffed sadly and said, "What about his mom?"

"Besides her. But she was a crazy bitch with the added advantage of being his mother. You know he has mommy issues."

Meg nodded when Christine looked at her for guidance. "Yeah, and I've known him since I was little. I can't remember him once coming in with a wound. He's a crafty veter when it comes to hits."

"He is a crafty veter," Christine agreed.

Meg watched her for a moment then decided to lighten the mood. "So, you've seen Erik without his mask, yeah?"

"Of course."

"What's it look like? His face, I mean. I hear he's the thing of nightmares. But, you know, even though that's what they say all the girls at Madame Giry's think he's super hot." Meg said, grinning. "I don't know of one that wouldn't hit that, ugly or no."

Shaking his head, Nadir said, "I haven't seen his face, but there was one time I saw his hand. It was pretty fucked up."

Meg gave him a confused look, "So it's not just his face that's all gnarly? How much of him is messed up?"

"Why are you asking him?" Christine demanded, indignant. "I'm the one who's seen it all!"

Waving Christine into silence, Meg made a hissing "shh" noise. "Quiet, I want to hear Nadir's story!"

Gesturing with his hands as he spoke, Nadir related his tale of Indiana Jones-like proportion. "So this one time, I was bodyguarding for Christine's dad when a hitman chased us up onto the roof of a big, old skyscraper. I'd been fending this merc off for days, he kept having a go at knocking off Gustav every time my back was turned, and I think Elizabeth was getting pretty pissed about it too."

"Anyway, I was sloppy, somehow ended up hanging from the edge of the roof. Gustav was sprawled out on the roof, the hitman had his gun pointed straight at him. Suddenly, Erik walks out of the shadows- like he REALLY just appeared there from nowhere- and shoots the hitman before he can off your dad."

"So I'm all hanging there, you know, real action hero stunt-like, and Erik strolls over. In his rush to get to us, he must have forgotten his gloves, because his hands weren't covered. He offers me his right hand and says 'Take my hand,' and I'm like 'No, no, give me your other one!' I mean, I wasn't ready! He assured that was his strong hand, and to be honest, I'm a pretty muscular guy-"

Meg coughed behind her hand, "Fat."

"Hey! I'm not fat, this is all muscle. Anyway, you've seen him, I probably weigh twice what that stick does. So my only options were: fall to my death or grab his mummy hand. I did what any sane man would do- I grabbed his leathery claw. He hauled me back up onto the roof and as soon as I'd brushed myself off, I thanked him. But I had to say, 'Grabbing your hand was like grabbing a handful of Slim Jims down at the 7-11.'"

"I had a good laugh about it until he socked me in the jaw." Nadir finished, a nostalgic look in his eyes. He grinned, "We've been friends ever since."

"Oh, so that's why you were laughing so hard about those Slim Jims earlier!" Meg realized, hitting her fist into her palm. "You should have seen him, Christine. He was all on about those damn things. Said Erik would know what he was talking about."

"Yeah, it pissed him off pretty good," Christine informed them, smiling as she remembered how angry he'd been that morning. "Tell me another one, Nadir. You're old, I'm sure you have plenty more stories about him."

"Let me tell you!" Nadir laughed, slapping his knee. "There was this other time another hitman was trying to off your dad- different one this time. Anyway, I caught him and was about to dispatch him with my gun, when Erik rises up out of the shadows once again, like he commands the very darkness with his sorcerer powers. Long story short, turns out this is a guy he's been hired to kill and he insists he shoot him."

"Of course I was all 'No, man, I worked so hard trying to find him, no way I'm gonna let you kill him.' So Erik looks at me, turns to look at the hitman, and I'm sure his little brain is trying to formulate a witty comeback. Then he shrugs, pulls out his gun, and fires a bullet point-blank into the guy's face. As if I hadn't just chased the son of a bitch down the street for two hours!"

"Then he laughs while he's walking away from me. What a bastard!" Nadir snapped, the sense of irritated anger flooding over him as if the memory wasn't a few years old. He frowned at Christine. "I can't believe you like that ass."

Suddenly, the elevator buzzed and Christine leapt up from the couch, running over to the control panel. She barely glanced at the monitor to see it was Erik before hitting the unlock button. Nadir piped up from his seat, "Ten bucks says he isn't even sweating."

The elevator doors swung open, but he didn't even hand time to take more than a step into the penthouse before Christine assailed him. She dropped her cell phone to the floor, latching onto his overcoat with shaking hands as she threw herself into him. Stunned for a moment, he quickly overcame his confusion to wrap his arms around her shoulders and back, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. It was a good feeling.

She pulled back just far enough to rant, "Where were you! You could have been killed! Do know how fucking worried-"

He pressed his lips to her forehead, stemming her anger, before drawing her back into that bruisingly sweet embrace. A heart wrenching sob tore from her lips even as she tried to bury her face in his shirt, surrounding herself in his comforting scent and warmth. "You don't understand! You're all I have! Everything else- without you-"

"Shh," he felt her arms slip around his waist, her hand bump the stolen gun that was kept for the moment in his belt. "I'm fine. Nothing happened."

Her hand darted back to the gun, running along the cool metal as she peered up at him. "What's this? You don't usually keep guns here."

He let go of her to extract the hitman's gun from his belt and walk over to deposit it on the coffee table. "It's the hitman's. I didn't have a holster for it, so I had to improvise."

"So you caught him." A sudden iciness sharpened the edges of Christine's voice. Erik's gaze flicked back to her face- it was as much a mask as the one he wore. This professional blankness was unnatural for her. It reminded him of his own face. He didn't like it. "Did you find out who hired him?"

"I have my suspicions." He replied, running his gloved hands along her upper arms as if to warm her. "Don't mind that. I sent a clear message-"

"Was it Crowley." Strange to hear her mimic that same tone he often used. He knew she didn't expect an answer, because it wasn't really a question. This control over her emotions wasn't normal for her. If he had to guess, he'd probably attribute it to shock.

Nadir and Meg had watched the entire scene with curious eyes. Erik glanced at them dismissively. "It's alright, you two can return to your rooms. I'll inform you when she's calmed down."

Nadir and Meg didn't argue, but as Meg picked up her purse, she said, "I dunno, she looks pretty calm right now."

Erik didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to undermine Christine in front of them, but he had a feeling she was balancing close to the edge emotionally. More so than ever. Meg touched Christine's shoulder as she passed to reach the elevator. "Call us later, okay?"

Christine nodded slightly, more an acknowledgement that she'd heard Meg than a promise. The elevator doors slid shut without noise. Her gaze focused on Erik. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, crossing to her again, his hands on her face lovingly. "I've dealt with this sort of thing before, Christine. It's never been a problem that I couldn't handle."

"It's a problem for me. When the man I love is nearly killed before my eyes-"

"Don't exaggerate. I wasn't nearly killed. The bullet didn't even graze me."

"It could have!" She hissed, for a second her teeth flashed in an almost animalistic snarl. "If you hadn't seen it at the last minute, you could have been shot!"

"You've seen me completely naked." He pulled her into an embrace, though it took a moment before she relaxed into his arms, pliable and warm. In her hesitation, he sensed pain and cold. She was truly afraid of his death. She dreaded it more than anything else. "Have you ever seen a scar on me from a bullet?"

"No." Christine breathed, her shoulders slumping as his touch eased the tension from her muscles.

"No, exactly. I'm quite hard to hit when I want to be." Erik said, trying to keep his voice warm and tone light. She only needed a small excuse to lapse back into her paralyzing fear. "And now that they've lost the element of surprise: the only thing in their favor, if they are stupid enough to try again I'll be ready."

She clung to him as if he were the only safe point on the whole planet. With her head bowed her hair fell away, exposing the soft skin at the nape of her neck, he leaned over to press lips onto her seventh cervical vertebrae, that wonderful spot on her spine right before her shoulders. What tension there was left in her dissolved as if his lips worked magic.

She cocked her head to the side, revealing her side of her neck for him. He gladly pressed his lips to her sensitive skin, nibbling up to her jaw. A soft sigh whooshed from her lips and he could almost sense the change back to a sort of normalcy. He felt her relief at his safety.

When his mouth reached her ear, she turned her face towards his, their lips inches away as she commanded in a whisper, "You. Me. Bedroom. Now."

His eyebrows raised on his forehead as he shrugged out of his overcoat obediently, following her as she turned to the bedroom. He nearly tripped over his feet as he struggled to kick his shoes off.


End file.
